This little rooster is cerebrally challenged. In other words, he’s kinda dumb.
The last surviving rooster of the refugees from the horrible, terrible chicken place (all the hens recovered and relearned how to chicken, although they are all super small), he gets to stay in with the hens because of his beautiful colouring and mild, meek attitude. His brains, on the other hand, leave something to be desired.
The Colonel is at large in the GH, still the ruler of the roost, and boy is he kept busy teaching the young roos some manners. One flying drop kick at a time.
She took a whole arm off of this plant (right), and a couple of beak shaped bites out of another arm.
Then she took the tip off another plant. She really ate quite a lot of it, despite the bits she left behind. Apparently, today she just wanted some aloe. It’s good for her. No one else is eating it (I’ve tried, I find it bitter).
This is the box she stands on, to eat, and just to hang out for a lot of the day. Easy to clean:) The aloe just seemed like part of the buffet.
I got some more work done in the greenhouse. Specifically, I untied all the strings crossing the top third, that suspend tomatoes in the summer.
You can just see the strings in this pic. So I’m taking them down and crochet looping them up to decommission them until next year. The guineas will be able to fly around in the upper third of the GH again.
This festooning makes sense to me.
Then the irrigation came out, and the pool went in, and coops were shifted – oh my! When HW was yanking out the irrigation tape, he exposed a nestful of a family of shrews or voles that ran scurrying, and the chickens leapt into the air and screamed like little girls! Which made the whole room erupt, and they talked about it for quite a while.
The Silkies noticed immediately that their dust bath was refilled:) by immediately I mean seconds. About ten.
Cleopatra wants in there SO bad. So bad that I was able to catch her, the notorious escape artist, and take her jacket off- she’s all regrown.
Everyone wants into that dust bath. So much so that there was an invasion from outside:
A half dozen chickens that don’t belong hopped into Silkieland to use their fridge-drawer baths (how rude), all the while ignoring that they have a new grand bath of their own:
There was so much upheaval – wood chips and hay and coop movement and the addition of baths and overturning of turf, that the roosters were bleating about “New things! New things!” for about 20 minutes straight. Other than that it was very, very quiet. All must be investigated.
This little adventure chicken got in on the action when I went to hang some long poles for perches at the opposite end of the GH from where the guineas now roost. First, I rested it on the coop.
Whitey got aboard. More impressively, stayed on and rode the pole as I tied up the opposite end at 6’ish, then came to the coop, raised that end and tied that up.
What are you gonna do now, little bird?
That should keep them entertained for a couple days.
All very peaceful, until a croissant comes out. First it was pie crust, similarly discovered by accident – I was eating it within her reach, and she stabbed out her beak- I’ll have some of that!
Multigrain croissant has proven to be such a huge and lasting hit, that I’m like Ok, eat some more of your grains, and then you can have croissant. She’s like I’ll wait. I can carry a box of them through the room, and her little head periscopes out of her banana box, following me.
She gets a wicked glint in her eye when the croissant comes out, and she attacks! I used to break up beak sized pieces for her, but she prefers to rip her own bits off of the source, getting her whole body involved.
Why does she like it so much?
We don’t know, but at least she’s got an appetite.
I stopped this little Barred rock hen who’s been wearing a denim jacket for a while, to see if she needed it still, or if her feathers had regrown underneath. Three of the other jacket hens are out of their coats now.
This one happens to wear her coat like it grew on her, edges neatly tucked under her wings, and a perfect fit at her tail. I never see her jacket askew. But when I grabbed her to look under it, I messed everything up.
Boy, was I in trouble!
The indignation! The resentment! The phrase “ruffled feathers” really took on embodiment. She was pissed at me for messing up her outfit, which she mimed very expressively, starting off with a vigorous head shake, of which I got this neat picture.Grrrrr!What have you done?!
Then she proceeded to adjust herself, irritated as all get out that I’d interrupted her day so inconsiderately. Look at this mess! Now I have to stop everything to fix it, when I was just about to get the good spot on the coop. She went all over herself, digging in her wingpits where the elastics hold it on, combing her wing and tail feathers, tugging her coat this way and that – that was the neatest thing, that she actually tugged on and readjusted her jacket, just like she would her feathers. She wiggled it back into place and flattened it, and put all her feathers back the way she wanted. She’s not over it, though. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.
One of the guineas escaped from my carefully constructed bird shield. It flapped and scramble-ran up the plastic, therefore slipping under the edge of the mesh and out into the clear air.I actually saw it in progress, yet was unable to stop it from happening.It had just enough foot friction, I supposeI’m up here.Now what? Looked neat from inside. I left her up there to figure it out.
Later… how’s that guinea doing?Well, it’s on the wrong side of the mesh, and now suspended, like it’s in a mesh bag. We’re helping!
Its friends (whites only), were trying to help by pecking. Not helping.
I can get them down from here pretty easily though, by bounce, bounce, bouncing them on the mesh, until they slip under the overlap mesh- wish I could say I designed it like that – and flop unceremoniously into the yard they’re supposed to not be able to escape from.
The sun came out and dried up all the rain. Not all – there was a lot of rain. And more wind. This morning, the pig house was upside down. No pigs. That’s never happened before (the pig house flipped, certainly not absent pigs). I can picture them bolting out of there as their house lifted off of them.
Pigs are easygoing, pleasant, optimistic creatures though, so they had no worries about settling back in after breakfast.I had a good time in the greenhouse, cleaning up, untying strings. It seems like such a short time ago we were tying up the strings for all the vining plants to climb- cukes, melons, tomatoes. It’s nice to spend time with my birds when they’re at ease, not just in the food frenzy I get to see twice daily. They spend their down time lounging, and investigating, and investigating new places to lounge. They flop down anywhere. Chickens cashed out everywhere.The guineas really like it under that coop.
What chickens really enjoy is industry – somebody else’s. I was tearing down the cucumber vines in this corner. Moved a few things, paused to sort out my ipod, turned around, and…the whole crowd is in there “going over” my work. Hmm, we’ll just have a look, shall we?
Now I know why the other chickens weren’t impressed by Nosey. This is what they do when I’m not looking.The white one was up there too, before I got the camera. Just walking around up there on the tomato vines. She’s going to practice swinging in a controlled environment.
Nosey is a different little chicken.She runs up to me instead of getting out of my way, routinely stands on my boots and pulls my laces, and is generally underfoot. If I’m bent over the edge of the Silkie yard, or a coop, she’s standing at my elbow. I was cleaning Bravo coop and she was perched right next to my head, not giving me room to swing hay in and out, so I was like, ok, fine, you want to be in the middle of everything?, and I put her on my shoulder. She was quite happy with that and it made it easier for me to work, until she pecked me in the corner of the eye!
Then things went out of focus. It was a solid peck (she did not pull her pecks), but no permanent damage to my eye. Except later I walked the same eye into the spout of a watering can, so maybe my peripheral vision was temporarily compromised.
This also Nosey.I want that tomato. I wants it!Ok, it’s sort of like a swing.I just have to leean out…Last moment before an undignified flapping plummet to the floor. I love that the other chickens find this Tarzan act in no way noteworthy.