Death by Watermelon

Okay, first the good news.  Josephine is back after an attempt to hatch eggs in our back shed.  She was hiding very well, but something found the eggs when she dashed off to get a bite to eat.  When I finally found her, she was looking sadly at a few small pieces of egg shell, the only evidence of her hard work.  She's safe and sound and now laying her eggs in the nesting boxes.

Now the bad news.  Earlier this evening, I was looking out the window and saw chicken legs pointing into the air.  That's not good.  Chickens will sometimes lie down in odd positions while they take a dirt bath, but I've never seen one sleep on its back.  I figured something had to be wrong and it was.  Our old white hen was dead, unmistakably dead.  The little x's on her eyes were a dead giveaway.  What could have happened?

My husband, Chris, had come out with me.  He said something about compost and food scraps and that he didn't think anything had hit the chickens.  When I figured out what he was talking about, I looked into the pen. There was a large piece of watermelon on the ground, which obviously had been in the food scrap bucket when Chris had tossed everything over the fence.  The watermelon must have bounced and turned lethal while no one was watching.

I briefly considered finishing the job and preparing the old hen for dinner. This was an old hen.  She was so old, she even laid wrinkled eggs. And she was scrawny.  If this had been one of our large hens, there would be no way I would have passed up the opportunity for good chicken soup, but this one?  Chris convinced me it wouldn't be worth the time and effort... not to mention the smell.

As we dug the hole and buried her, the other hens started cackling, much in the same way they do when they lay eggs.  Maybe they were worried.  The old white hen hadn't laid an egg in a few weeks.  The others must have decided not to take any chances.

We'll see how many eggs we get tomorrow.

Spring Shuffle

In the past few years, it's become popular to have backyard chickens.  Lately, miniature goats have also found their way into the hearts of city dwellers.  That urbanites have become fond of these cacklers and bleaters, just warms the cockles of my heart.  We've been urban farmers for over twenty years.  All those new enthusiasts are simply catching up to where we are.

Wow.  We, the Reinhart family of Wheat Ridge, Colorado, are trendy.  

I enjoy talking to the newbies about their chickens and hearing their excitement.  When they learn how experienced we are, they flock to us with their questions:

What happens if one of my hens starts to crow?  Uh...that one isn't a hen.  My hens don't go inside when it snows.  Is that okay?  Yeah.  They're not the smartest birds on the block.  What do I do with a rooster?  Chicken noodle soup?  The conversation usually ends there.

I'm sure we had as many questions when we first started out, too.  

Winter is slow on our urban farm.  There's still plenty of work to do, but it's really just keeping everyone fed, watered, and protected from the elements.  Spring is when everything starts up again.  Hens start to lay eggs, Josephine looks for a place to hide a nest, all the bird's feathers come in fresh and new, Napoleon the Rooster starts attacking our feet with a vengeance, and Gussie the goose keeps all the predators away. 

Before this starts, there is the annual Spring Shuffle.  No, it's not a dance, though sometimes it seems as if someone has choreographed the whole thing.  Every bird in the yard has to find their place.  One wouldn't think it would be so challenging or creative.  It's different every year.

This year, we've had some interesting changes.  One of those changes, we implemented ourselves.  Gussie now has a pen to himself.  In the interest of my calves and the protection of our guests, he is in solitary confinement.  He's less aggressive without the females and we don't have to worry about an accidental hidden nest presenting us with a brood of new goslings.  We have four geese.  Enough is enough.  

The rest of the geese and the female duck are out in the main yard where they can scrounge around for any food they can find.  They keep the weeds down while they're at it.  The female geese are exceptionally docile and often follow us around the yard.  

Our chickens stay in the enclosed chicken yard.  There are exceptions.  Napoleon goes where ever he pleases.  He is the undisputed ruler of the farm, and if you don't believe him, he'll let you know by crowing loudly into your ear from his perch on the fence post.  

Josephine, our banty hen, also goes where she pleases.  Our son found her hidden nest under the rabbit cage one night.  He became suspicious when he heard the rabbit clucking away contentedly.  Peering under the cage, he found Jo the ventriloquist, sitting on her nest.  We can't reach it, so perhaps we'll have a brood of banties this year.

Then there are the odd ducks, so to speak.  One is a hen who has decided to keep Gussie company in his confinement.  It's unusual to have a friendship between a chicken and a goose, but I won't argue.  So far, so good.  Then there is Little Goose.  She is one of last year's goslings who has suddenly decided she'd rather stay in the chicken yard with the hens all day, rather than graze in the big yard with her mom and sister.  Again, I'm not going to argue.  It's peaceful out there.

Now we're getting eggs.  Out of sixteen hens, one duck, and three female geese, we got thirteen chicken eggs and a goose egg today. 

It's spring!  

These Gardening Boots should last awhile!

After looking all over the place for a good pair of backyard muck boots, I ran across these at our local ARC Thrift Store.  They were brand new, with tags attached and cardboard still inside each boot.

Steel toes, shin guards, thick insulated rubber,

Thorogood Hellfire Structural and Hazmat

real honest to goodness Firefighter boots!

Okay, Napoleon and Gussie, let's see you try attacking my feet and legs now!

ARC Thrift Store price:  $9.99/pair 

I got a pair for Emma, too.

Online price (Anclote Fire and Safety):  $249.00/pair

They even come with a one year warranty, though it only covers normal firefighting use. 

Score one for the Foxes

It had to happen sooner or later.  We've had our birds for a year and a half, and during this time, we haven't lost any of our birds to predators.  Between having our guard geese, large white Embdens that patrol our chicken yard, and the fox population being hit hard in our area with mange, we just haven't seen foxes around much for the last two years.  This has been a mixed blessing.  Not only do I like foxes and enjoy seeing them, but they also keep the squirrel population at bay, something we were made aware of this year as we tried to garden.

In a normal year, the foxes will raise their young in the ditch in back of our property.  When the kits are old enough to learn how to hunt, mom and dad bring them to our farm to learn the ropes.  Fortunately, this has usually meant going after the squirrels.  I remember one day when I was working in our garden and a young fox caught a squirrel about 30 feet away from me.  The little guy brought his lunch over to the garden fence and sat there eating it, right in front of me.  I didn't appreciate it at the time.  

This year, however, the squirrels ate everything, chokecherries, plums, tomatoes, sunflowers, and apples.  They also raid our chicken food on a daily basis, knocking the lid off the metal trash can where we store the grain and even hopping right into the chicken feeder.  Where are the foxes when we need them?  I've been hoping they'd come back.

I got my wish tonight but it wasn't quite the way I'd planned.  We came home from a wonderful dinner at our son and daughter-in-law's house.  Coco is an incredible cook and we sat around feeling lazy and visiting for awhile.  By the time we got back home, it was dark.  And the birds were still outside.

Chris went out to put them all away, knowing that the chickens would already be in their house and the geese would be anxious to be let out of their pen.  They guard the yard at night.  The ducks are the ones who spend their day with the run of the whole yard.  It's complicated because the different species do not get along.  The geese will pick on the chickens, sometimes literally picking them up and giving them a shake. The male duck, Harold (named after my uncle), has made himself very unpopular with the male goose because he's always chasing the female geese.  Harold is also unpopular with our female duck, whom I named Cecelia (after my aunt), because he's always chasing the female geese.  Harold would also chase the hens and would probably have gone after the female squirrels if he thought he could get away with it.

Cecelia was by herself, waiting to go into the yard.  Chris looked around and saw a pile of white feathers lying on the ground by my studio.  On further investigation, the pile of feathers turned out to be a Headless Harold. Unless Cecelia just got so fed up with him that she literally bit his head off, I have to assume that a fox got him.  We are going to have to be very watchful this week.  Once a fox finds a nice meal somewhere, they tend to come back for more.  The chickens will have an earlier bedtime now and Cecelia will be hanging out with the geese.  That's okay, because they get along with Cecelia just fine.  

If the foxes were going to make a come back by eating one of our birds, I guess Harold was the best one to go.  I can't even make myself be too upset by this.  The foxes are far more useful than Harold ever was.  I only hope that next time, the foxes find a squirrel or two for their dinner.

Oh, Hawk!

We've been very lucky at our little urban farm.  Because of the geese, we've had no problems with foxes, coyotes, raccoons, or neighborhood dogs.  Our flock of hens, ducks, and geese, have thrived and multiplied.  So far, we've had almost no trouble with predators.

That may be changing.  The other day, I looked out the kitchen window in time to see a large hawk swooping down into the chicken yard.  I ran out the door in time for the bird's second run.  Fortunately, both were unsuccessful.  Emma and I managed to call the chickens into the smaller enclosure that is covered.  The ducks, having the run of the yard, were able to find a place under the bushes where they were out of sight and relatively safe. I wasn't worried about the geese.  They can manage on their own.  The hawk swooped down one more time, landing on our roof, then flying up into the trees next door.

It took Emma and I awhile to catch our breath and stop shaking from the adrenaline rush. We were grateful that all the birds were safe, at least for the moment.  We went back inside and related the story to Patrick.  He, too, was grateful that all the outside critters had survived.  "But," he said wistfully, "it would have been funny to see the hawk carrying away Napoleon."

Napoleon, of course, is our little rooster, who is Very Fierce.  It would have been funny, but only if we could have heard what he was saying:

"Squawk!  Let me at ya. I can fight you with one wing tied behind my back. You gonna come quietly or am I gonna have to mess with ya.  Still not tawkin?  You gonna be sorry as soon as you put me down.  I'm packin' 4 inch spurs, ya know."

Etc.

He wouldn't have quit fighting or squawking even after the hawk ate him.  Knowing Napoleon, he would have given the hawk the worst case of indigestion imaginable.  

How to Socialize Rabbits

It's not that hard, the website assured us.  Two rabbits of the same gender can learn to get along with each other as long as you approach it right.  The most important first step is to choose a neutral location.  Then, let the rabbits out together and carefully supervise them to make sure they don't fight.  It may be that you'll have to work with them for short periods of time, daily, until they start to bond.  If you are patient, you will eventually have two rabbits who enjoy being together.  

The website listed a number of possible scenarios when introducing rabbits for the first time.  One rabbit may try to kill the other one.  That is not good.  One rabbit may chase the other one around.  This is okay, as long as the other bunny doesn't suddenly turn around and try to kill the first one.  One rabbit may also try to mount the other one.  This is normal, the website says, and is a part of how they determine dominance.  Basically, as long as neither rabbit is trying to kill the other one, you're doing pretty well.

It went well.  Just as the website told us, one rabbit, MJ, started chasing the other, Eleanor.  MJ clearly wanted to be the dominant bunny because the next thing we knew, she was trying to mount Eleanor, and succeeding.  I began to get a little worried.  After the third time MJ exhibited this behavior, I picked her up.

Even vets can get it wrong, I know now.  MJ, named for Michael Jackson because of that one pure white foot contrasting with black fur, is a boy bunny.  

The internet is wonderful for looking up all sorts of information.  I immediately learned that the gestation time for rabbits is 28 to 31 days.  They ovulate on demand, every time the male is successful in doing his part.  This, the website tell us, almost assures pregnancy.  MJ went back to his cage, looking smug.

We learned a lot today.  Our experiment in socializing our rabbits was a success.  They did not fight.  We did everything we were told to do.  They should have added one more precaution, however.  

The first step in introducing two female rabbits should be to make sure they are both female.

 Eleanor

Mr. Chicken Bucket Man

During the school year, the three kindergarten classes save their food scraps for our chickens.  They all go in a special bucket and Chris picks them up in the afternoon.  The children know where the food is going and they get excited when they see Chris.  Last time, one of the boys greeted him with, "Hi, Mr. Chicken Bucket Man."  The teacher must have had a word or two with the child because when Chris came out of the last classroom and walked out through the playground, the same boy made sure to say, "Good bye Mis-ter Re-in-hart", in his most forced polite voice.

If for some reason Emma gets a ride home from school, picking up the scraps ends up being part of my morning drop off duty.  Fortunately, I've never been called Mrs. Chicken Bucket Man.  I entered the room one day to the chorus of "it's chicken time!"  After dumping the scraps into my bucket, I started to leave. I didn't get far before one little boy stopped me.  He had chickens, too.

"We got SIX EGGS IN ONE DAY," he exclaimed with enthusiasm.  He then went on to tell me all about their four roosters, who were big bullies and how he took a walk one day with his grandma and saw a goose that had been half eaten by a coyote.  "It was cool", I was informed.  "There were all these bones and stuff and the head was off."  He wasn't the least bit upset by what he'd seen and he seemed to accept the fact that the coyote was just trying to make a living, as we say in our house when one of our flock disappears.

It was a reminder to me that kindergarten children, especially kindergarten boys, really do live in a different world.

As much as I appreciate getting the food from the classrooms and I feel good about recycling what would otherwise not be used, I am not crazy about being on chicken bucket duty.  It doesn't smell good, and, after three class' worth of scraps, the bucket is heavy.  I'm a bit embarrassed, too, if I have to carry the bucket through the school hallways.  Up until a couple of weeks ago, I would put the bucket in the trunk of my car for the trip home, just so I wouldn't have to deal with the lovely aroma.  Not anymore.  The last time I did that, I had to stop suddenly at one intersection.  When I arrived home, the contents of the bucket were scattered all over the trunk.

It was disgusting.  The kindergarten boys would have loved it.

Bunny come, bunny go

Our first bunny was a beautiful white angora rabbit which was immediately christened Fluffy.  He was sweet as long as we kept him in the outside hutch but he defied all the evidence from the House Rabbit groups by becoming a mean, territorial, growling, charging, biting bunny, when kept in the house.  When he started shedding, I learned how to spin his fur, ultimately making a few tiny knit angora bunnies.

Then a neighbor's bunny hopped over and decided to stay.  I tried returning him to his family several times, luring him with bananas, but he always came back.  After the fifth time, the family suggested that we keep him.  

Then came the giant lop eared rabbit, another angora, and a little lop eared bunny that was labeled as a female at the fair where we bought him. I was pleased to have another female because I had a female already.  They could keep each other company.  The little lop agreed with this plan wholeheartedly.  Fortunately, he was so overeager that we knew, even before we set him down, that he was, absolutely, undoubtedly male.  Time for plan B, I had to find a second cage.

The little lop was named Snickers, because his coloring matched the candy bar.  Snickers soon decided he was not a bunny after all; he was a dog.  Our old Lab/Rottweiler mix, Montana, would suddenly come to life as soon as we walked out the door.  He would grab hold of a stick and run around in circles.  Looking over to the rabbit pen, we would see Snickers running around in circles with a stick in his mouth.  If that's what dog's do, he was going to do it, too.

For a long time, we had three rabbits.  When I say a long time, I mean a l-o-o-o-n-g time.  Velvet was the first.  He was a sweet, sweet bunny who was found crossing a major street in town.  The family had other rabbits and needed to find a home for this one.  Then came Bunnicula and Killer, dwarf rabbits.  Brothers from the same litter, they were the nastiest rabbits I've ever known, completely destroying any stereotypes of the "cute little bunny".  Killer proved to be an escape artist, too, and within a week or so, decided to make his way in the world.  Bunnicula stayed on to growl, charge, and bite us whenever we tried to feed him.  I started wearing leather gloves.  The last of the three (not counting Killer) was Carrot, a used classroom pet that came to us after spending 1 1/2 years in the 2nd grade classroom.  Carrot was another lovely, friendly variety and he was always waiting for someone to pet him.  

We lost Velvet last year at age ten.  Yesterday, we lost Carrot, also at age ten.  A week ago, I found that his hind legs were paralyzed and he wasn't able to get to his food and water.  I knew he wasn't going to recover, not at his age, for sure.  I called the vet's office only to find that they were closed for the holiday weekend.  We brought him inside and hand fed him twice a day. Then I would clean him up and change his bedding.  I was glad when he decided to depart even before the vet's office opened up again.  

Bunnicula is still with us.  At age 9, he is still just as feisty as ever.

We have our new rabbit now, too.  The rescue organization named him "Inky", which wouldn't work for us.  We have a niece by that name.  I thought we'd call her Binky, but my kids disagreed.  After trying out numerous possibilities, she was finally christened, "MJ", because she is black with one pure white paw.  Our daughter was adamant that MJ be a house bunny and it's working out well!  MJ is a friendly and social little critter who runs up to us whenever we enter the room, hopping in circles around our legs.  If we sit down on the floor, she will run around the room, checking in with us after every few laps.  She's not a sit-in-your-lap type of bunny but the way she stands and looks at us when she checks in, has me charmed. She's even housebroken!

We've had many animals come and go in our family.  It's always hard to lose a pet, but when we are lucky enough to have a sweet, friendly rabbit live a full, long life, it's not as hard to say goodbye.  Ten years is a long time for a rabbit to live.  Old Velvet even had wrinkles on his face!  I suspect there will always be one more bunny to rescue. 

Gifts for Animal Lovers

Since my blog is in the top 1.5 million blogs on the internet and is read religiously by at least 4 people, two of which aren't even members of my family, I thought I would use my influence to suggest Christmas gifts for the animal lovers on your list:

1.  Hamsters - Their names are Pip and Squeak and I promised to provide foster care for them till they find their permanent home. 

2.  A Dog's Purpose by W. Bruce Cameron.  The highest praise for this book comes from his daughter, who told me, "Sometimes my dad writes something good."  This wonderful book, about a dog who lives numerous lives, reincarnating until he can find his purpose in life, is filled with Bruce's gentle humor and his obvious love of animals.  No one was surprised when it made the New York Times and the LA Times best seller lists.  It was only natural to hear that Dreamworks Studios is turning this into a movie.  http://www.adogspurpose.com

3.  Hamsters - Did I mention that they're free?

4.  Enslaved by Ducks and Fowl Weather both by Bob Tarte.  The first book had us laughing and remembering similar adventures on our urban farm.  Bob and his wife, Linda, began accumulating animals shortly after they were married.  Before long, Bob found himself setting up pens for ducks and geese, hand-feeding parrots, rescuing baby robins, and nursing an injured turkey.  This is just the tip of the iceberg.  As Bob says, "Try living with a parrot and you may end up on Zoloft, too."  The second book is on my wish list.  (hint, hint)  www.bobtarte.com

5.  Hamsters - Call soon and I'll throw in the hamster race car and race track.

6.  A St. Nicholas Story by Terri Reinhart and illustrated by Patrick Reinhart.  The classic story of the fiercest little animal in the forest who meets up with St. Nicholas.  The year I first told this story to my kindergarten children, I had a number of fierce, grumpy little pine martens in the class.  The usual St. Nicholas story wouldn't do.  I didn't write down the story for another year.  Within a couple of years, I learned that my little story had been shared around the world and had even been performed as a puppet show. 
I'm excited and pleased to announce that it is now available in Dutch and Swedish (soon) and available as an app for Android  Soon it will also be available for iPhone and iPad!

7.  Don't forget the hamsters.