And Then What...?

I had no plans of posting an addendum to my chicken story, but Wednesday's addition to the chicken family is a tale worth telling.

Our chicken mentor has a number of young hens that needed to be culled from the flock.  She just has quite a number of free range chickens, and looks to place what she cannot use in homes that will enjoy them and their eggs.  I requested two hens when the first batch of new babies came in.  She selected two sister hens for me to pick up tonight at 7:00 p.m., when her flock goes to roost and are generally easier to find and catch.



Barred Rock Bantam

 I was told to bring a large cat carrier, which I did.  The hens were indeed inside their building, and perching by 7:00 p.m.  Suddenly I see her appearing at the door with a container full of eggs and a hen sitting on top of them.  This, apparently, is hen sister number one, a Barred Rock Bantam.  (This is the same type of hen as our lovely Penny, whom we lost last year.)

I guess my face must have registered my surprise, because she began to explain to me that the hen has been sitting on a clutch of eggs, and she hates to part her from them, so she would appreciate it if I would take the container and allow the hen to keep sitting on them.  If they hatch, I can choose to keep what I get or bring them back if I do not want to raise the baby chicks.  Huh?  I think she lost me at "take the container with the eggs."  So I ask:  "Uh, will she just stay sitting on these in my car?" (This is why I have a mentor...to ask silly questions like this one!)  The answer is no, which is why she produces a large ventilated feed bag to put over the hen and the container so the hen would remain in the container in my car.  (My mind is asking the question....And then what?)

Hey, I'm no chicken wrangler, so I will just take whomever's word for it that chickens will be cooperative.  So we place the hen and container in the bag and I carry it to my car.  As I said, it's ventilated with some hole openings, and the hen sticks her beak through and squawks at me.  The next thing I know, this chicken is proving her long lineage back to the cat (have you ever put a cat in a box and closed it leaving a little hole?), as she sticks her entire head through the opening, then somehow, before my eyes, like a magic trick gone haywire, pushes the rest of herself OUT OF THAT HOLE and flys out of my car.  The eggs look lonely in the ventilated bag and the chicken is now running around and squawking, causing all the other roosters who have not yet roosted to come out and take a peek at what is going on and if I am attack worthy.  (Again, my mind is screaming...And Then What?)

I walk back to where my mentor is standing and point to the chicken, noting that it's too bad she isn't a HE because we would name him Houdini.  In the meantime, she has captured the Barred Rock Bantam hen number two and has placed her in my cat carrier.  My theory is, both need to go into the cat carrier, and I'll just take the eggs with me and place hen number one on them again when I get home.  This is agreed upon and soon both hens and eggs are secured in the cargo area of my Explorer and we are headed home. Now I have to explain the egg situation to Paul.  (Once again...And Then What?)

At home we have a nice spot for them to acclimate.  We were originally going to use a dog crate, but then thought why not just use our big extra stall until all chickens become buddies and then we can revert the stall back to hay storage.  So we set it up with the original wooden ladder perch our first batch of chickens used, some hay bales, a waterer, a feeder and a white bowl of freshly cut green grape treats.



I think this photo best captures Paul's
exasperation at seeing 16 chicken eggs.

 Upon arriving home I had to explain the whole egg clutch thing to Paul.  After the initial shock wore off his face, his response was:  "PEEPS!!!  WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH PEEPS!!!!??????"  I explained that if we didn't want to keep the baby chicks we could take them back and that our great-and-wonderous-Oz chicken mentor wasn't even sure that they would all hatch.  So, I put the chickens into the stall, unloading them from the cat carrier, and they begin to explore.  I also placed the potential baby chick eggs in a safe place on a few hay bales, where the hen would feel she was perching and would continue to sit on them.  (And Then What?...)

In the meantime, Screech, our rooster whom we've segregated into the other chicken area, is going ballistic.  He is squawking and carrying on, prancing and flapping his wings.  It is now almost 8:00 p.m., so I shut his coop light off.....GOODNIGHT SCREECH and PLEASE SHUT UP!  So he settles down and becomes quiet and moves up his perch.

We decide to name the newbies Rebecca (Becky) and Sarah (two biblical names because they are doing alot of begatting with those 16 eggs).  Becky is the rounder, fatter sister, and Sarah is the taller, skinnier one.  As Becky and Sarah are settling in, Becky flies to the top of the stall (There is an air gap of about 1.5 feet between the top of our stalls and the barn ceiling.)  Uh oh...if she wants to, she can fly down and out.  (And Then What?...)

We never expected that.  We also suddenly realize that the spacing between our stall bars may be wide enough for her to fly out.  Just as we are realizing this fact, sure enough she tries to fly out of one.  Paul rolls his eyes because he knows that here we are at 8:15 p.m. with a chicken project.  It is one of those hot days and so it is still approximately 85 degrees out.  He is already sweating just thinking about it.  (And Then What?...)


Our foster dog, Danny, checking out the mud
barrier frames.


So Paul brings out some of the materials we used to create a mud barrier for our dogs in our fenced yard when the mighty rains fell a few weeks ago.  He had built frames to use to protect our garden, has since built better frames, and so these were available.  These frames kept our dogs' feet cleaner by keeping them out of the muddiest area of our yard, but we took them down once the major monsoons ended.  These materials came in handy, as did some extra livestock fencing we had.  We stretched the livestock wire over the bars of the stall and nailed it in place so that the hens cannot fly out, and then used the framed portions to block their access over the tops of the stall.  Fort-Chicken-Knox.

In the meantime, Screech went ballistic again when Becky tried to make an escape for the second time and instead flew into the newly installed livestock fencing.  You would think the chicken hawks were attacking.  I'm sure he got no sleep that night listening to the invaders in the next stall over to the coop.  Viking chickens were pillaging his village after all. 

By this time I feel like I've been attacked by 1000 mosquitos, and Paul is sweating up a storm.  And there is always the threat that if one spider rears it's ugly head, I'm outta there.



Hen sitting on egg.

 Finally we are done.  We head in the house for a brief period of rest and air conditioned comfort. We later checked on the newbies and they seemed happy.  Becky was sitting on her eggs, while Sarah was inhabiting a hay bale.  Screech is listening intently to every barn sound as Henny and Jenny turn in with him for the night.

I don't know "nothin' 'bout birthin' no" baby chicks, so stay tuned for future updates here in chickendom!  And tomorrow I promise you the best story ever about "chicken dusting" which I did last night! There are alot of "and then what's" still to come as we perhaps experience the "joy of peeps!"

Aaarrrroooooooo!