Gone

I can't believe it. 

Yesterday I wrote about finding remains of two hens in the pasture. 

Last night, I sat down in the henyard to fill the duck pool.  I was VERY tired.  I noticed that Buddy, the red and white rooster, was running around importantly. 

I wondered where Rammy was... Rambo... our big rooster, son of our Buff Orpington Rambo, our first big rooster here. 

As Buddy ran back and forth, I called to the henhouse... Rammy, you better get out here. 

Then I realized... I had not seen him. 

I remembered that in the morning, I thought he was still inside with the hens, while Buddy ran around outside.  

I had even written about the fact that he seemed to be faltering a little, and that I thought maybe the drake was bothering him, and picking at his tail as he went by. 

You see him here on the right, four days ago... with his poor tail almost gone. 

Keith was gone all day yesterday, and I cut grass for hours.  

Finally, I thought it was strange the hens were not coming out to turn through the cut grass, and I went in to see what was going on.  

I couldn't find Rammy anywhere.  

Then I got to thinking that I really hadn't seen him since Saturday morning. 

This is all I found. 

One of his spurs. 

It was literally in the doorway to the pen, and I must have stepped on it in the morning going back and forth. Not a feather or anything else. 

I had just thought, the day I took the upper picture... that we needed to trim his spurs again. 

I also looked back to this picture... taken March 23rd: 

There's Rambo on the right, and he was easily the largest of all our birds.  

And guess what?  There are TWO production blacks, 2012 hatch, that are gone, not one. 

The only black hen left is Libby, who is four years old and, of course, laying only one or two eggs a week. 

In fact, of the hens in the big henhouse... I am getting only MAYBE two eggs a day out of them now, instead of six to eight. 

The perpetrator is NOT taking the bantams. 

Heck, no. 

Is it this guy? 

This is the dog coyote we saw with the hurt leg, clear back in February or March. 

He appears to be gaunt at this point, and starving.  

Don't think it's him, I don't think he could make it up the pasture in the daylight and grab a bird and get away with it. 

I caught him on the game camera last night, desperately looking for something to eat. 

Am I worried about the little guys, the goats? 

You bet! 

The hens are staying in mostly now, in the henyard. 

I am thinking of moving the few that I think are still laying over to the henspa. 

I wanted to lower our numbers, but not this way. 

So far, no ducks are missing. 

Monday Evening

I had a very long day at work today while my computer was switched from Lotus Notes to Outlook... I still don't have it back.   There's only so much desk-straightening you can do, so once that was done, I got caught up on a few things I could do by hand. 

I did have a huge laugh, though, when I read Ohio Farmgirl's post for tonight about Goat Pimping.  Take a minute to read it, especially if you have goats, or have had a long day.

I am still without a camera.  Over the weekend I went with friend Theresa to Weston, Missouri, a very historic Missouri river town.  I actually bought two point and shoot Fuji cameras from the grocery store... okay, one was made by Kodak... so I could take pictures of the pretty town.  On Sunday, I had the birthday party for Jax and Paiton to go to... they are three and four respectively, born three days apart, one year apart.  There was another orgy of present unwrapping and Jax got six guns (Nerf) by my count.  Paiton got at least three Disney princesses, and a big baby doll from me.  I'll tell you a secret... the doll was 11.74 at Walmart, and she liked it as well as the special ones. 

I'll take those two cameras to Walmart tomorrow or the next day and get them developed, scan the pictures... etc. etc. etc. 

I'm trying to get it together to get another camera, at least an inexpensive one to use until after Christmas.

Here is a picture taken 3 years ago... this is Baby Rambo!

Dovey hatched these three.. and the lovely red chick was killed by a snake.

And here he is today, King of the Big Henhouse.

It's fun to look back and see him as a helpless chick.

More Bits and Pieces

We are seeing quail daily now.  We don't always hear them, but when we look out in the evening, sometimes one, sometimes five or six quail are eating around the wild bird feeder.  Tomorrow I'll go to the feed store on the way home, and get another 50 lb bag of gamebird feed.  I'll mix it good with the economy mix from Tractor Supply (9.95 for 35 pounds) and make it stretch that way. 

We went up to 97 degrees today, and that should be the hottest day for at least the next five.  I felt badly this afternoon, I had so much to do at work today that I left much earlier than usual, and forgot to go out and fill Inca's pool, which I found this morning with hardly any water in it.  We suspect there is a hole, either made by her, or worn out, since this is the second season we have used it.  Tonight when I got home, she was laying in it, and there was only a tiny puddle.  I started the hose to fill it before I even went in, since I knew Keith had let the dogs out to go to the bathroom when he got home.  Sometimes she doesn't quite make it in it, and we suspect that is tearing the pool up, too.

Why the pool leaks, sometimes she doesn't make it all the way in!

The molt is in full sway here.  Reddy and Eagle, who live with Butch in the pen in the pasture, have hidden their laying spot from me, so two weeks of eggs have gone to waste. 

For two days, I've found Ruby, my old production red girl, who by rights should be long past laying, in the feed room.  She walks across the rafters, and flies down to lay by herself.  The spot she was using is not very big, and there was no egg in there last night or tonight.  I looked high and low and could not find them, so maybe she just came over and changed rooms on a whim. 

Buffy, the Polish girl, is no longer laying after her injury.  She formerly gave us a beautiful white egg daily.  Birdy, the crazy last daughter of Old Rambo, is four and quit laying long ago.  I'm of several minds about these girls.... with the price of feed going still higher.  I'm going to dig out some old receipts tomorrow night and compare what we are paying today and what we paid when.

Here is an example of the molt:

The mighty Rambo has lost his shakin' tail feathers

By the bye, I saw Rat Cong in the henyard last night when I went out to close popholes.  They are not Norway Rats, but they are fat rats, and this one was like a baby piglet!   I should let Lilly loose in there for a night.  If the little chicks would JUST GO INSIDE, I would.

Yes, they are still roosting in the tree.  We are expecting thunderstorms tonight, so I hope they can hold on tight.  I found this one in the pasture today, pacing the fence and unsure how to get back to his buds:

Speedy Gonzales, the littlest rooster, he's one of my favorites.

I'll close for the night with a short video of the two Naughty Girls. They flew up to the fence in the little henyard and proceeded around to the farthest corner of the big.  As Lilly was lurking just outside the walk gate below them by the llama tank, I was praying they would not fly down, though I read it in every wing movement. 

In fact, I have no clue if they took themselves back around and went in for the night.  The way they were looking at the roof of the big henhouse, I suspect they might be up there, or in the walnut tree.  It was too dark to see when I went back out to lock up. Muffy and Bitsy are the Wild Children. 

Today

I did not get chosen for the jury today, and was glad.  I have been on two criminal juries in the past, and one was a very sad case.  This was shaping up to be, too.  I was glad when we were released to leave. 

I worked on the new mirror bed to my perennial bed after doing chores tonight.  I managed to get two loads of cleanings from the llama yard over to it, and dump three bags of dirt.  That was about it for my back, so Keith is out there, God Bless Him! in the dark, dumping the dirt for me.  I bought some plants at a temporary lot that was closing out, a large nursery opens them all over the metro area in the spring.  I bought some yarrow, some kniphofia, (red hot pokers) and some lamium.  I have the white lilac starts from neighbor Kathy, and twenty or so huge tulips she gave me over the weekend.  I am going to get all this in tomorrow night after work.

Here is the garden tonight:

As you can see, daylilies are starting to bloom, and hollyhocks, too.  I have hyacinth beans coming up, but for some reason, the little cypress vine that went so crazy last year is struggling this year.  I have replanted once, and still not going well.  I had no luck with the thunbergia alata, so replanted in it's place (and now can't remember what I planted there!)  My balsam is coming up already, to fill an empty spot. 

I bought some dahlias, and two different kinds of glads at WalMart over the weekend on sale, and even though it's late, I'm going to put them in and see how they do.

This one in the middle was swimming in her swimming pool again!

Lothario (Rambo) is still trying to entice Butch's girls.  I feel sorry for him, actually... he has worked so hard at getting them OUT, and keeping his own four big hens with him, that his voice is hoarse.  His regular cockadoodledo has gone south, and I actually thought I had a new rooster somewhere this morning.  He is exhibiting no other sign, so I am sure he is not sick, just thwarted!

A Few Random Thoughts

It rained today, about a half inch, based on what was in my little grey garden cart.  Enough that I did not have to drag the hose around and water flowers tonight!

The clouds are moving out as I type this.

When I got home, I immediately did water, even though it did not get oppressively hot today.

I goofed up and left the gate open to Butch's pen, and out came his girls.  It took Rambo about two minutes to see them!

I got the gate shut before Butch could get out.  With his one eye, he is no match for ANY of the other roosters. 

Observe the damp belly and legs of Inca, who will soon lose that heavy, matted wool.

She was laying in the pool Keith got last night!  Almost all the water was sloshed out of it, so I refilled it when I got home.  Good for her, sensible llama!

The chickens won't even eat the feed I got for the llamas last week. Of course, Keith says why should they, when there is a pasture full of good bugs and grass!

I talked to a very nice clerk at Tractor Supply in Lawrence tonight, who actually answered the phone 15 minutes after they closed... and then went to find out if they had any llama feed in stock!  Her name was Cheryl, and she spoke so highly of her store and employers I am going to make sure tomorrow when I go to get a bag to try that her bosses know what a gem that they have in her.  The bag is 3/4 again as much as what we were paying, but it they will eat it, Keith says we will stock up on three or four bags in cans in the haybarn to have on hand. 

I know they can also order Mazuri, that Purina makes for exotics, if I need them to.

Here is Butch in his pen, upset, watching Angel in the llama pen with Rambo.  A few minutes later, Angel and Reddy came back to him, glad to get back in with their gentle Butch.  Eagle, the Ameracauna, had disappeared.  I walked all around the pasture looking for her, and then saw her in the llama pen.  By the time I came back around, she was gone again.  I knew if I waited a while, she would reappear near Butch, and sure enough, she did.  They are all back with their "man" for the night.  Tomorrow I'll leave Rambo and his girls in for a while in the morning and give them a chance to stretch their legs.

Tomorrow, too, I am going to share something wonderful in picture with you, that I was priveleged to discover this past week.  I think you will be as astounded as we were!

Drama in the Big Henhouse

There is something going on in the big henhouse, and it's not nice.

We think Baby Rambo, now called Rambo, is beating up the little roosters.  Those of you who keep chickens will laugh... we have far too many roosters here, but you have to understand that his daddy, Rambo, our Buff Orpington rooster, kept everyone in line peacefully.  If he saw a little rooster mounting a hen, then he would hip-check the little rooster like a hockey player, and the little one would run off squawking... no blood.  Rarely did we have any true altercations, with bleeding etc.  Every once in a while there would be trouble... we had to re-home Barney and Betty, a purebred buff brahma bantam pair, because after two years Barney started getting the brunt of everyone's ire.  Then, sadly, two years ago we lost mighty Rambo, dead of natural causes.

There are only two of his get left, as Fred, the Japanese bantam, was far more prolific until he died in the dog attack.  One is Birdy, hatched by Helen, our turkey hen, who has always been a flighty girl.  She will be four this year.  The other is Baby Rambo, from the very last hatch of big chicken eggs.  He has become a nice rooster... not golden like his daddy, but nice all the same, from one of our Wyandotte hens while they still layed, we think.

Thursday, when we got home from work, we found Butch bloodied. 

We would not have been so amazed at this, but Butch lost an eye in a fight over a year ago, and has lived since then in the feed room of the big henhouse.  He goes outside only when I put him in the dogpen in the chicken yard, where no one can hurt him.  

The only way up to him is at the very top of the dividing wall, where there is an opening that several hens cross daily to come and lay eggs on the feed room side.

The culprit who hurt him either crossed back over, or Butch had crossed to the roost side, and then came back.

You can see the dividing wall behind Keith and Butch.

We kept Butch in the rabbit hutch for 24 hours, because we thought we were going to have to put Neosporin all over his head to open up his one good eye (opposite what you see here).  However, it opened up on it's own in 24 hours. 

And on closer inspection... I found this:

Note bloody comb...

You can't tell, but these two have blood on them, too.

Rambo has gotta go.

We have never deliberately had to cull a perfectly healthy rooster before... and he is a good guardian to the hens... but I love my bantams and we just are not going to tolerate Peace by Might.  If it keeps up, Rambo is going to disappear one night.  We have a friend who butchers, and when approached yesterday, told us that if the weather let up a little, she would do the dirty for us (paid of course).  If not, and there are more injuries, Keith will take care of it.

We know we need to cut down on roosters, and that would be a start.  We are hoping to ship off any new ones to some local workmen... but that will be for this coming year.  Right now, we are just about full up on boys.

Time to Get Outa Here!

Baby Rambo, his two sisters, and his mama Rosewitha are outgrowing the rabbit hutch they have lived their lives in for the past eight weeks. Time to rotate cages... Baby Rambo and his family to the pen in the henyard, and Dovey and her three small bantam chicks to the rabbit hutch. The Silkie Sisters have the run of the little henhouse, so will be fine in there for another two months with their five babies, who are way too small to launch on the world. Today will be the day that the moves are made, so that Rosewitha and her babies can spread out a little, and see the world. We'll wrap the pen in chicken wire to keep Mr. T at bay, and the Four Little Red Hens, Nellie, Beryl, Grace and Mabel, will have to give in and sleep in the big henhouse or in the other doghouse. I wish they would go into the big henhouse where they can be safely shut up from raccoon and oppossum, but short of catching them each evening, it ain't gonna happen!

Long Live the King

The King is Dead...long live the King!

The Mighty Rambo may be gone, but his progeny live on... Birdy, Big and Little Brownie, and several other birds are all reminders of the big golden rooster. And lo and behold, one of Rosewitha's babies is shaping up to be a BIG YELLOW COCKEREL. Though I swore we would keep no cockerels this summer, if this is a boy, he's Rambo's for sure. He will have a place of honor in the henyard, no matter what.

Too Much Death for Springtime

The Mighty Rambo is gone.

Tuesday morning, after a week of his being beaten by Curley the Rumpless, we found our Rammy dead under the roost in the Big Chickenhouse. Husband left to get dressed for work, and I picked up our golden boy, to find that he was still warm to the touch, and had just died. I realized none of the other birds had pooped on him, and that he had just fallen off his roost and into the dirt of the chickenhouse litter. I cried bitter tears then, cradling our big boy in my arms like a baby, and wishing I could have seen him alive one more time. Spring is supposed to be a time of life, and it just doesn't seem fair that we have lost Lacey, Isis, and now Rammy.

That night after work, I dug a place for him at the edge of the pond, where he loved to lead his big girl harem looking for bugs and worms. I dug it as deeply as I could, and laid him in a pillowcase in the bottom, making sure I dumped enough dirt back on him that no animal could find him and dig him up. There he will stay, near where I will be seating on my Mother's Day bench and watching the frogs,and where I can talk to him about things going on at the farm.

Rest in Peace, our dear boy!

A Sunny Saturday, A Cold Sunday

Punxatawney Phil wasn't kidding this week! We had a wonderful Saturday with 67 degree highs, and followed it with a gloomy, gray Sunday that reached maybe 40! Typical Kansas weather.

On a high point, I saw a robin while out doing errands yesterday. Coupled with the red-winged blackbirds that are visiting our feeders, I know now that spring is definitely ... springing!

On a low point, I've dropped or banged the camera, and it doesn't seem to be working. As I can't figure out how to erase old pictures from the new movie camera, I am unsure how to transfer those pictures over, and the old camera (before this new digital) also doesn't seem to be working. I am no great photographer, but I carry a camera constantly, because you never know when you are going to get a Kodak moment.

I got some of those yesterday while out doing the evening chores. I sat and watched the Little Bunch for a while, while Rambo and the big girls were off in the pasture. The Little Bunch was gathered under the little henhouse in Fort Apache (the straw bale fort intended to protect the geese and ducks, who sleep in the horseyard). I marveled at Brownie. She is almost two, from a hatch two summers ago. She is a pretty brown hen, out of (probably) one of our two production reds, Rosy and Ruby, and Rambo, I am sure. We have had a succession of pretty brown part Buff Orpingtons these last four years. Anyway, Brownie was caught in some mesh we had used to cover a chick cage when still very young. Her leg became engtangled, and she was out in a blowing afternoon until I found her tangled and got the mesh off her and bundled her into the henhouse. We kept her in the nursing cage for weeks, as we could see the leg had become spraddled. We know our friends would have put her down, but we wanted to see what would happen. She learned to adapt with the bent leg... and hops along, following the others. The roosters know she is easy game, and constantly mount her, so that her back is bare. We are ordering a hen apron to protect her from their depredations. Every time we begin to feel badly for her and think of "putting her out of her misery" we marvel at the fact that she survived a terrible dog attack last year, and managed to become a productive member of our flock, giving us a nice brown egg daily. I hold the water dish for her at night so she can get a little drink from the dish while laying in her nest box-roost. Husband says she is spoiled. I say she is a plucky little girl and very happy!

Her father, Rambo, is our oldest and biggest rooster. He has only one eye, and survived the attack by three neighbor dogs that killed our beautiful huge bronze turkey, Jake, and so many of our chickens. Rambo was grievously injured, but we kept him in the nursing cage for weeks, and were so happy when we could introduce him to the flock. He takes good care of his harem, and keeps the other roosters in line.

Studly and Butch are almost two now, born two years ago when we had a glut of chicks. Studly is grey and black, like his father Billy (gone to the butchers). Butch is white, shaped like Billy, but colored like his grandfather, our first white black-tailed Jap bantam, Fred, lost to the dogs. They are my favorites, both beautiful, and both placid and wise, like Fred.

Curley, the red frizzle cochin, came here in disguise as a pullet... until he crowed. He keeps to himself, with a couple of the little hens for company. We would like to have some frizzle chicks, but hopefully not this year.

The Little Four, from last summer, are carbon copies of Studley and Butch... but also of their grandfather Fred. We can't tell them apart, but I call them One Two Three and Four.

They all have personality and we talk to them all while doing chores, and they talk back.

In fact, it's time to go see them now!