How Do You Make a Chicken Diaper?

  

Moshe with the blue coffee container and some of the Peeps

      Up here in the North Georgia Mountains we have experienced a brief reprieve from the weather the past few days.  It has been a blessing, a time to enjoy the outdoors, a break from the constant vigilance of tending the wood stove.  Moshe has been letting the chickens out of the arks every afternoon so that they can forage for seeds, greens, and any bugs that are still in the ground.  They are so funny!  This afternoon when I came home from town, they all ran to meet the Jeep.  They might be "dumb animals", but they sure do know who we are, what our routine is, etc..... They recognize the sound of our voices.  If I stand in the dining room and look out at the Peeps' coop, they look at me and - literally - jump straight up and down! And the older chickens come a' runnin' when either of us is carrying the  blue coffee can that we tote their chicken pellets or cracked corn in.
  

they will eat out of our hands

      So, Sunday morning I had this idea... The "Peeps" are growing up, and it bothered me that they stay cooped up (no pun intended) all the time, while the older chickens wander by.  I suggested to Moshe that we let them out to graze the yards as well.  After a brief discussion of the pros and cons, we decided we would try it, and, if need be, physically put them back in their coop at dusk.  It has been hilarious watching their antics the past few days.  The roosters are definitely  displaying competitive rooster behaviors;  Cogburn was even silly enough to challenge Brewster - our big old rooster who is more than double Cogburns' size.  Some of the peeps couldn't quite figure out how to get out of the coop the first couple days,  but today they had no problem.
  

Chicken Little is in the far left of this photo

      All of them - with the exception of Chicken Little - knew right away how to get back into the coop for the night.  Every evening Chicken Little roosts in the boxwoods next to the back porch, and, every evening I get her out of the boxwoods, cuddle her for a few moments, then place her in the coop with Pretty Face and all the Peeps.
     A couple months ago I wrote about the strange way that we got Chicken Little.  At the time, we assumed that she was a "Peep", about the same age as all our other Peeps... Now I'm not so sure... All the other Peeps have grown, but she is still just the same.  The other chicks are two to three times her size.  It's so ironic that I named her "Chicken Little"!  I named her that because she seemed to fall out of the sky and into our yard.  But now her name is even more appropriate.  She is the cutest little bird I've ever met!!!  I'm wondering if she might not be a year or two old... not a Peep at all...
     I told Moshe I'd like to figure out a way to make diapers for her and keep her inside as a pet.  That didn't go over real big for some reason...
      SHALOM  Y'ALL - TWYLA

More Chicken Talk

     Yes, I talk to the chickens... and to the dogs, and the cat, and the squirrels, and the birds,  even the lady bugs...  But, chicken talk is really special;  I understand their lingo. And they know my voice, too. (I think they secretly tell each other, "Oh, boy!  Here she comes... the soft-hearted one... She'll give us extra food!!! Hooray!")


      Friday afternoon, Moshe let the chickens out again "to graze" in the yard. And, just like the day before, they seemed to have a wonderful time, clucking, and chirping, and crowing, and eating, and digging, and strolling.  A couple times Moshe and Moxie had to herd them out of the neighbors' yards and back into ours, but, for the most part, they were content and well-behaved...
     Well, come sundown, all the chickens entered the arks, as they had the evening before. All seemed well with the world...  After supper, Moshe went out to pull up the ramps on the arks. (This is done to keep it warmer and dryer "upstairs" for the night.)  He looked upset when he came back in, and he promptly announced that one of the black chickens was missing.  "Oh, no!" I said,  " It's going to be sub-freezing temperatures tonight, and if she's alive now , she'll never survive the night."  To which Moshe replied, "I really don't think she's alive.  If she'd been alive, she would've made it back to the ark like all the others."  We talked for half an hour or so, and decided that we are very blessed.  Everybody we know  that has chickens has lost several - or even ALL - of their chickens.  For us to lose only one is amazing.  Plus, God has given us several chickens - all the "peeps" from our neighbor, and "Chicken Little" who just showed up in out yard several weeks ago.  Yes, we are, indeed blessed. Still, it's hard to lose an animal when you've known her since she was only two or three days old...
  

A little Peep - only a few days old...

     Saturday morning I half-expected to see a dead black chicken feet-upward next to the ark. (Oh, I know... What an imagination!)  I had somehow during the night decided that she was alive and that she would try to get back in the ark.  This was not the case. No sign of the black chicken.  No sign of a struggle, either, like one would find if a chicken met up with a mean dog, or a fox, or a mountain lion.  We decided a hawk must have swooped down and got her.  We've seen several red-tailed hawks less than a mile away, so this seemed like the most plausible explanation.
     Around lunchtime, I told Moshe I thought I heard a chicken under the house. I have extremely excellent hearing, and I could've sworn I heard a chicken "cluck, cluck, cluck"  coming up through the air vent.  I heard it once in the bathroom, again in the office. It wasn't a "normal" cluck, either.  I told Moshe it was a distress call.  Patient man that he is, he went outside and crawled up under the house to look for the chicken.  Of course, he didn't find one... Plus, Beau (the stray dog we are trying to befriend) sleeps under there.  And, of course, a chicken and a dog aren't going to share quarters for the night! So, I gave up.  Said I must've heard one of the chickens out front and somehow it sounded like it was coming from under the house.  Sometimes, especially when it's rainy or snowy, sound travels in very strange patterns up here in these mountains.
  

   Last night it snowed about an inch or so.  When I got up this morning the temperature was 7 degrees.
Moshe's broken ribs were hurting real bad this morning, so I went out and fed and watered the chickens.  I couldn't help but look for the missing black chicken, even though I knew it was ridiculous.  As if on cue, a big hawk flew overhead, and I thought, " Yup.  That's gotta' be what happened."
  

About an hour later, I heard the sound again.  The  distressed "cluck, cluck, cluck" coming up the bathroom air vent.  Coincidentally, Moshe was outside at that very moment and heard it from the front yard.  Problem is, he was facing the chicken arks, but he heard the chicken talking behind him.  On further inspection, there was the "missing" black chicken up under the house.  Moshe fetched her out of there and put her in one of the arks.  Two hours later, she was STILL eating!  Poor baby.
  

Pretty Face peeking thru the snow

     Meanwhile Pretty Face has decided her babies are grown.  Or, at least, grown enough... She doesn't coddle her three peeps any more;  treats all the peeps as equals now, although the original three are still more likely to sleep with her than the others... Pretty Face is a talker!!! I mean, she talks a lot! She bosses all those peeps around like crazy. "Bud-up-up-up-up-up-up."  And, "Burrr-yee-awk!"  And, then there's the occasionally  true cackle.  One day last week, I thought, "That sounded like an egg cackle; I should check her house and see if she's laying eggs yet."  But, I was busy and didn't do it.  The next day, Moshe came in with four eggs from Pretty Face's house!  I  KNEW  it!  The true cackle is invariably an announcement of an egg.  This morning there were two of them in there.  Pretty Face  is back in the egg-laying business.
     So, I talk to chickens and chickens talk to me. I wonder what will happen if we get goats...

     P.S. Apparently a stray dog and a lost chicken  DO  make good roommates!

SHALOM  Y'ALL  -  TWYLA

Them Chickens is Confusin' Me!

        Yup.  Every time I think I understand chicken behavior, they throw me for another loop. A month or so ago, we tried to put Pretty Face back in her original coop with. her "sisters" and they nearly pecked her to death.  We ended up putting her back in with her babies, creating a sort of commune for her, her peeps, and the other peeps we had raised indoors.  We introduced an orphan, Chicken Little, to that brood, and, after a brief rejection, all the peeps have included in her in their routine.
     That being said, here's what happened yesterday/last night. Moshe let all the chickens out on the front yard yesterday afternoon "to graze".  Oh, they were happy!   They ate what little grass and green weeds that remain in the yard,  had a gourmet buffet on the remnants of the winter garden... romaine lettuce, cabbage, broccoli, swiss chard... After the past two weeks with snow and ice and hardship,  I'm certain they were as thrilled as a chicken can get.
  

    But, then came evening.  As expected, the chickens went back into the arks. But, when Moshe went outside  to make an official count, there was a little bit of a discrepancy.  For one thing, Brewster was in the ark he doesn't normally live in... I think we all know what THAT was about!  Naughty, naughty Brewster!!! Moshe corrected that by moving him back to his original ark.  But there was still a discrepancy in hen numbers.  It seems that one of the hens from Brewster's ark was also in the opposite ark.  Problem is, she looks identical to the black hen that's already in there with all the golden comets.  So, Moshe just left them "as is". I was worried about it - afraid that the other chickens would attack her - but, Moshe said he'd check them in the morning and move her if need be.


Well, this morning all the chickens were living together in complete harmony.  No pecking. No cackling or crowing.  No ostracism.  Complete harmony. Eating, sleeping, drinking, laying eggs.  So, now we have come to the conclusion that if we move the chickens around at night, they won't know the difference come morning...

Hey! How'd YOU get in this post?

 maybe I should stick to the kind I collect and decorate the kitchen with!


Shalom   Y'all - 
         Twyla