A Disgusting Evening

A few weeks ago, someone asked me how Rosewitha was doing.

You see, here at Calamity Acres, the female side of the farming pair jumped the gun when we signed to buy this place, and bought a pair of Japanese white/blacktailed bantams and a pair of  Buff Brahma bantams at auction, and we actually had to board them somewhere until we closed.  That was the first lecture on infrastructure, seven summers ago.

In time, we adopted from Olathe Animal Control a purebred Buff Orpington rooster (our original boy Rambo), and three hens that appeared to be production reds, Helen, Rosie and Ruby.  Of all those birds, Ruby is the only one left. 

These chickens, though the "set" had been bred out of them, proved to be prolific breeders.  Wilma, the first Japanese hen, set a clutch, and from them we got One, Two, Three, Four, Studly and Butch, and another rooster, Speedy, who has been long gone.  We also got a bunch of hens of varying sizes, including the two identical bantam hens Dovey and Rosewitha.  Both were excellent mothers over the years, and could be depended on to protect and teach their babies right.  Dovey we lost during the tail end of winter, she failed and Keith had to put her down. Rosewitha, after raising the clutch with two other mothers in the little henhouse in September, went back to the big henhouse to live in the rafters with the Little Bunch who lives in there.

There's Rosewitha in the middle.

Tonight, I came home from work after a particularly long day.  Keith was playing in a golf tournament and was going to be an hour or so behind me. 

I let the big dogs out, and fed the little ones right away.

As I went out, I noticed Lilly by the henhouse.  Then, a few minutes later, she was out by the shop.

As I started chores, I found this:

Feathers where feathers shouldn't be, at the corner of the big henhouse, in the yard.

Pretty soon, I saw Lilly Ann over by the shop, and yelled to her she better be behaving. 

Oh. Yeah.

When I got over there to do the little six chicks still in the shop, I found another pile.

Right about then, Lilly attacked Ranger up in the garden.  I knew then she had hidden her kill where she had hidden Studley during the winter.  I thought about it for a few minutes and realized it had to be Rosewitha.  How she got on the wrong side of the fence, I don't know.  When she did, she obviously couldn't figure out how to get back, and she was so old she never flew anymore.  No, I didn't beat Lilly but I have been upset with her all evening.  I don't care that it's her nature, I'm tired of her killing my birds.  She has killed three in the last six weeks.  It's tiresome.  This little hen was a good mama and a good layer, and never hurt a flea.  She's in a bag in the back of the truck, and Keith will take care of her tomorrow, we don't want to burn her because we aren't burning tonight, and the ground in the pasture is very hard right now.

Lilly Ann needs to stay away from mom tonight. 

There won't be a gate in the new henyard, it will be entered by going out a door in the henhouse itself, so the birds will not be able to get out.  We are also considering putting a picket fence around it too high for Lil to jump to even come near the birds.  Barring that, she won't go outside unless we are out there watching her. 

I've had my tears, and I guess I shouldn't be crying over an old bird, when so many people have lost everything they own in the tornados of the last month... but she was a good little bird and I'm feeling pretty sad right about now.

Little Hens

Our little hens have kept us laughing this week. 

This one, Rosewitha, some of you may recall... was one of the three mamas that hatched out the last clutch, born in September in the little henhouse.  Once those babies were able to go outside and fend for themselves, Rosewitha went back to the big henhouse where she had lived all her life.

Why is she in the rafters? 

Because Tuesday night, after I hadn't seen her for a couple of days... I had Keith climb a ladder to look above this:

This is the last piece of ceiling hanging in the big henhouse on the feed room side.  In the previous picture, Rosewitha is about 3 feet from it in the rafters.

Tuesday night, Keith got on a short ladder, and looked above the tile.  There was Rosewitha, on five or six big chicken eggs.  She was NOT pleased that Keith found her.  He lifted the eggs down to me... and gently gave me Rosewitha.  I put her in the little henhouse so that she could help incubate the (now 17) eggs under the little hens in there. 

The next day, I couldn't see Rosewitha anywhere.  I kind of freaked out, as I lost her twin, Dovey, a few weeks ago.

Finally, I asked Keith to climb the ladder again (he is tall enough to see into the ceiling, and there was Rosewitha AGAIN. 

She had gone over this:

It's the door that separates the little henyard from the big, we don't allow the two flocks to mingle any more.

Obviously, it didn't keep Rosewitha in. 

Because that evening, I found her where you see her in the first picture, in the rafters. 

Tonight, Keith did chores.... we don't know WHERE she is, but there were two big beautiful brown eggs up on the ceiling tile. 

They keep us laughing!

Here are two more... this little pullet has not come into lay yet, she was in the September hatch:

Her daddy, Ratchett, is the frizzle cochin right behind her.  Then again, she is shaped more like one of the half-Japs we have.

Here, we think, is her mama:

This little cochin hen, Lady, is two, and carries the frizzle gene.

And here, last night, are part of the little flock:

I try to give them treats every other night - and as you can see, they LOVED the dog food leftovers and old sour cream they got last night!

I'm linking this to Farm Friend Friday!