Hefty Chickens

The chickens are now about 6 weeks old. They've got most of their feathers, and they have been surviving chilly nights with the coop interior at about 45 degrees. They're eager to get out of the coop every morning. Last night, I fed a few out of my hand as I was putting them away for the night, and I picked a couple up. Man, those chickens are getting big. A month and a half ago, they each weighed less than an egg. Now, the mostly white araucana feels like he weighs 3 pounds. Da. Hang.

Safe for Now

It's the chickens' first Thanksgiving. No, we didn't take any pictures, but actually it doesn't get good for the chickens until tomorrow. All of the trimmings, parings, clippings and leavings from tonight's dinner went into the chicken bucket, which will get taken down in the morning to tempt them out of the coop to get some exercise. They love squash entrails, beet tops, cheese and lettuce. They're not so hot on celery. The stuff they don't eat they stomp into the dirt and poop on. Once we've fenced in the other side of the chickens' yard, we'll scatter grass and amaranth seeds and let them sprout for a while in the well-fertilized dirt while the chickens dig up the other side.

The chickens at this stage aren't even Cornish game-hen sized. They don't weight quite a pound yet, but they're growing constantly. Other people have told us that they're going to become flight risks, but I'm skeptical. They were almost flying for a couple of weeks, but that seems to have gone by the wayside.

So, for now, the chickens are giving thanks that we had salmon this year. Next year, one of them may not be so lucky.

In a Fight Between Goofy and Gross - Goofy Wins

I came home today and let the chickens out of their chicken yard. They like getting out and pecking at new and interesting things - their favorite place is the leaf pile next to the compost bin. They kick the leaves up and uncover all sorts of critters and tasty vegetation.

One of the buff orpingtons uncovered a Jerusalem cricket. The chicken kicked it up and as it landed upside-down, legs waving in the air, the chicken pounced on it and began pecking.

The bug died a slow and rather grisly death, being pecked apart by a giant chicken. The chicken, on the other hand, acted like it was dining at the Ritz. Many other chickens tried to horn in on the buff orpington's prize, but the chicken would grab the bug up and run away with it, peeping around the prize as it went.

The chickens may be silly, but anything that rids us of one of those disgusting bugs is okay in my book.

Chicken Glamor Shots

We've finally started figuring out who's who. The chickens are getting their feathers and losing their fuzz. Their feet are humongous and they peck at everything.


This one's an araucana - the kind that lay blue or green eggs. The araucanas are all different colors, but they all have the same markings around the face and back.



This one's a silver-laced wyandotte. They started out all-black, but their heads are mostly white and they've got the nice striped wing feathers. They've also got weird combs over their beaks - wide and flat and red.



This one's our mystery chicken. We're not sure what kind he is, but he's white with dark feet and light earlobes and comb. He started out looking just like the other buff orpingtons, a little yellow puffball. Now, he's totally different.



Unmistakeably a barred rock. They're all beautiful and black and white striped, and they're all getting the cute orange combs. They're like little convict chickens.



This is one of the buff orpingtons. Note the absolutely gigantic feet on this thing. These are the most chicken-y looking chickens we have.



And bringing up the rear are the black australorps. They were the last to get their wing feathers, and as you can see from this one, they're still not even getting their tail feathers yet. They're all kind of runty, which is weird because they're supposed to be a large breed. But you can see their beautiful feathers with the black glint right now.

Next up - actual pictures of the chicken coop. Yay.

Stepping Out With Chickens

I know that chickens pecking at a wall has to be some kind of metaphor for something big and important, but I can't think of what. On a more literal level, they're literally pecking the wall. The concrete blocks are very soft and easily broken, so the chicks are filling their crops with grit.

We offered the chickens some compost, but as you can see from this barred rock's reaction, it wasn't the instant culinary success we'd hoped for. They picked out the red bell peppers and stomped most of the rest into the shavings.

And here are chickies having their dirt baths. It's a popular passtime for them, flopping around in the dirt like someone having a seizure. They kick their legs and flap their wings, sending a shower of dirt up over their backs. They they roll around and just lay there for a while, basking in the ecstatic glow of being covered with dirt.

These pictures were taken two weeks ago. In the meantime, they're even bigger and more chicken-y looking. Moer photos to come.

Moving Day

After being sick last weekend and spending all my time in bed while Pirate Guillermo put the outside walls on, I was back in the thick of things this weekend. The Pirate put some interior walls on and fastened on the chicken doors and the people door while I created the windows and dug post holes for the fence.

The windows are almost done. I bought some very simple picture frames that had real glass, and on the back of the frames used Gorilla Glue to glue essentially a second frame of 1x2s all the way around. We'll put window putty around the edges to seal it, and then fasten the windows to the chicken coop using hinges and latches. On the inside wall, I'm going to put hardware cloth over the opening so that during the summer we can keep the windows open at night and keep the place cool while not letting in critters.

I've decided that our chicken coop is not so much badly built as badly drawn by a person with no grasp of perspective.

Pirate Guillermo hung the feeder and placed the waterer inside the coop and put down a nice mat of pine shavings and it was all ready for preliminary occupation. Or so we thought. We did put the chickens into it, true enough. My initial idea was to use the old broom with which we herd them and just drive them before me into the coop. The problem was that by this time it was about 5:30 in the evening and pitch black. The little peepers had no problem leaving their pen, but were considerably less happy about heading off into the dark. Onesie twosie they'd break from the flock and head back for the comforting light of the garage.

I finally gave up and the Pirate, Peaches and I just started picking them up by hand, yelling out the running tally so that we'd know when we had them all. They'd scattered themselves pretty widely, some of them hidden behind, under or between large, immoveable things. Luckily, they were as mad about being lost in the dark as we were about having to look for them, and each one set up that keening peep that says "HELP!" We shoved them into the little chicken door of the new coop.

We did hang the heaters and turn them all on, true enough. But it's still very cold there. I think it's too cold for the chickens. The Pirate and I looked at each other just before heading off to bed and expressed a desire to go look in on them one more time. There's a tiny gap between the top of the chicken door and the doorway it fits into, and we peered through that. The chickens were nestled into the pine shavings and looking just fine. They had spread themselves out over the solid part of the floor, because I think that being over the open part of the floor was either too chilly or too scary for them. Either way, everyone was just fine when we went to bed, but the thermometer said that it was only 50 degrees in there this morning. I don't know if that's accurate for the particular elevation the chickens are living at, but it's got me a little nervous.

Today: find locks for the windows and finish framing them. Put up the other half of the fence. I think we can do that after dinner.

Hide and Peep

For the longest time, we were able to perform the most astonishing trick. I would make a snoring sound, and the little chicks would freeze in place, then start dropping off to sleep.

Well, that only worked for a few days. That trick no longer has the intended effect. I tried it one day, and they froze in place, as expected, but then, rather than dropping off to sleep, well, they did something else altogether.

You can see it here.