It has been over 6 months since I've added to my blog. This tells me that this is not a likely career choice. I have, however, had plenty of chicken drama. Yes, drama. Chickens are ridiculously dramatic. You can't just surprise a chicken just a little bit. You shock a chicken. They freak out. For example, if I throw some food on the ground and it bumps into their leg, the chicken won't just bend over and eat it. No. The chicken will jump straight up into the air, flap its wings, squawk and run. And then it will be offended when another chicken grabs the tasty morsel. A chase is guaranteed to ensue even if there is plenty of other food to be had. Yeah, drama.
We have a 55 gallon plastic drum that held dried field corn, still on the cob, that we occasionally would give to the chickens as a treat. Unfortunately there was no lid on said drum and it was not not just half full of corn, but also became infested with mice. It REEKED of mouse urine and was so disgusting that I decided to be a bit drastic and walked/rolled/shoved it out to the chicken yard. I figured a couple of them got in there and got trapped. Chickens being curious wondered what was going on. So, I tipped the barrel over and let the corn roll out. The drama chickens jumped and squawked and acted all crazy, but what happened next was awesome. The first mouse decided to make a run for it. Drama chickens gave chase and that mouse was pecked and tossed and didn't last more than a couple of seconds. Whew! One down. I nudged the barrel with my foot and more corn escaped, another mouse ran and was swiftly dispatched. This was working out well, although I must admit the smell was pretty disgusting. Releasing the fumes of mouse urine and poo is rough on the nose and the lungs.
I continued to nudge and mice continued to run. I lost count at 25. Twenty five. In fact, the chase got old for drama chickens and they walked away and decided it wasn't fun anymore. I had to stomp a couple to stun them and then grab them by the tail and toss them to the chickens. They begrudgingly finished them off, but not without attitude. As far as I could tell only three mice got away. One somehow did a 180, found a spot between the fence and garage to squeeze through, zipped around the corner and went back into the garage. I am not amused. Two others took off and made it into the cornfield. I'm okay with that. The cats or owls will get them. All in all, I was pleased with my plan. I just had no idea that there were 30 or more mice living in the barrel.
We have new chickens, about 35 young ones just hatched this spring. In the process of the mouse run the young chicks were standing off to the side completely freaked out by all the goings on. One of the mice took off and ran smack dab into the cluster of youngsters. Talk about dramatic! I don't know who was freaked out more, the poor mouse was running for cover and found itself in a Monty Python moment except with chicken feet. The chickens were jumping up and down, the mouse was trying to dodge about 70 rapidly stomping chicken feet. The last I saw it, one of the youngsters had enough and was standing there with it in her beak wondering what to do with it next. I don't know if the mouse was dead or just passed out from sheer exhaustion. The youngsters have grown a bit now and are much more likely to chase vermin. In fact, if I go out in flip flops they try to eat my toes. I really need to remember to cover my feet.
I have let a few of the hens hatch out some of their own eggs. Sometimes they go broody and they get all mad when I take their eggs. They try to peck me and I have gotten blood blisters when they get a good hold of my skin. We don't have a brood coop, as such, so the mortality rate is pretty high. Add to that the fact they really aren't all that smart and the mortality rate gets worse. Smart: mama hen going all ninja on the dogs when they get too close. Not smart: having baby chicks jump in dog's water bowl to get a drink. They don't swim. Smart: hiding baby chicks under their wings, sometimes co-mothering with another hen if there are lots of chicks. Not smart: taking chicks into the big chicken yard just to have all the drama hens peck the babies to death because, you know, they are starving to death and these tiny golf-ball size pieces of fluff are a threat. (Imagine me rolling my eyes at the drama hens.) So, yeah, I have fished a few chicks out of water bowls and have gathered their tiny bodies to put in the burn barrel. We have a huge dog, Spot, that runs about 135 pounds or so. He got one of the chicks and was trying to pet it with his giant paw. Poor little thing didn't know what to do when his big old tongue came out and slurped it from butt to beak. Twice. Spot was just trying to give it some love, but I grabbed it. I was really afraid it might accidentally stick to his tongue and, well, you get the idea. Two days later I found it in his water bowl. I have to ask myself, was it a case of forbidden love? Bowwowmeo and Chickliet? Shakespeare had chickens.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Just another typical day in the life of...
Once again I have waited a while to write anything. I get busy with so many time eaters that I don't take the time to write down my thoughts. And then today happened. It started early with dogs barking and whining to be let out, as it always does. I had coffee, got on Facebook and spelled a bunch of words (with friends), fed some leftover green beans and mashed potatoes to the chickens, went to the post office to mail the 40ish Christmas cards I had made out last night, went to the store to get dog food, bread and mayonnaise and headed back home. These are all normal activities. I got home, ran the dishwasher and then decided to wrap Christmas gifts. I got most of it done. I then decided to go get eggs and take the dogs out again. The chickens came through once again and we got 24 eggs with a couple still in the nests.
I will now interject that when I say take the dogs out I mean the following: one old female German Shepherd, one adult male German Shepherd mix, one adult Shetland Sheepdog (aka sheltie) and two adult long-haired overweight chihuahuas. Keeping track of them all can be a challenge when they decide to go deaf. This time, however, they were all fairly well-behaved. We also have indoor/outdoor cats with one in particular that feels like an open door is an invitation. It doesn't matter if she just went through it the other direction. If it opens, she goes. When we went out, so did she and jumped up on the deck railing and watched the dogs do their business.
After retrieving all the eggs and reflecting on how much I'd gotten done today already (I also started a load of laundry) and it wasn't even 2 pm yet, I called the dogs and we headed back to the house. Anticipating an open door, the cat jumped off the deck railing and took a flying leap towards the door. She leapt at the precise moment that one fat chihuahua reached that same door. I was two steps behind and all I saw was a flying cat land on a chihuahua back, legs straddling the little guy and for one split second the cat was riding the chihuahua. The cat turned and looked at me as if to say, "Holy cow! I landed on a dog!" The dog turned and looked at me as if to say, "Did you just throw a cat at me?" Time stood still and I nearly wet my pants laughing.
Even if I had a camera I couldn't have caught that split second that the cat was on the dog but it is indelibly etched in my memory. These are the moments that keep me going. I love my animals.
I will now interject that when I say take the dogs out I mean the following: one old female German Shepherd, one adult male German Shepherd mix, one adult Shetland Sheepdog (aka sheltie) and two adult long-haired overweight chihuahuas. Keeping track of them all can be a challenge when they decide to go deaf. This time, however, they were all fairly well-behaved. We also have indoor/outdoor cats with one in particular that feels like an open door is an invitation. It doesn't matter if she just went through it the other direction. If it opens, she goes. When we went out, so did she and jumped up on the deck railing and watched the dogs do their business.
After retrieving all the eggs and reflecting on how much I'd gotten done today already (I also started a load of laundry) and it wasn't even 2 pm yet, I called the dogs and we headed back to the house. Anticipating an open door, the cat jumped off the deck railing and took a flying leap towards the door. She leapt at the precise moment that one fat chihuahua reached that same door. I was two steps behind and all I saw was a flying cat land on a chihuahua back, legs straddling the little guy and for one split second the cat was riding the chihuahua. The cat turned and looked at me as if to say, "Holy cow! I landed on a dog!" The dog turned and looked at me as if to say, "Did you just throw a cat at me?" Time stood still and I nearly wet my pants laughing.
Even if I had a camera I couldn't have caught that split second that the cat was on the dog but it is indelibly etched in my memory. These are the moments that keep me going. I love my animals.
Monday, November 7, 2011
A Week's Worth of Random
This last week has been interesting, to say the least. Oddities occur or are found around here frequently. In fact, weird is the new normal in my daily not-so-routine. This latest surge of weird started, if I remember correctly, with one of our new chickens having a prolapsed oviduct. This can happen when the egg is too large for the opening, the hen has to push so hard to get the egg out that the innies turn to outies. Not good at all and we have to do something about it. We've had chickens for years and I've never seen this before. Thanks to google search I found a home remedy that although odd made some sense and we decided to try it. My husband held the chicken and I cold water washed the area (hoping the cold water would shrink the tissue and draw it up inside her). Using a wet paper towel I tried pushing it gently up inside her but it just popped right back out, so I did what this wacky home remedy said to do. I slathered it with honey. It worked. The oviduct suddenly disappeared up inside her. The additional benefit is that honey is naturally germ-free which keeps the area from getting infected. I have to admit, I was amazed. The hen was rather unimpressed and pissed off at us for washing and prodding her girlie parts, but we were pleased with the results. Yay for honey!
The next thing was rescuing some chickens that were seized in Indianapolis. They were not an abuse or neglect case, rather the owner had a little farm in an area that was not zoned for it. Neighbors complained, animals seized, rescues occurred. What we didn't realize was that all but two were cochins. For those who are unaware, cochins are tiny, tiny little chickens weighing ounces not pounds. They have feathers going all the way down their legs and are just total cuteness. So, we brought home 28 new chickens. One Rhode Island Red hen, one Rhode Island Red rooster and 26 little bitty cochins. My personal theory is that we now know where nuggets come from. Catching these little cuties was the funny part. A guy named Bob helped us. He grabbed a cat catching net. I tried using the net to grab a Rhode Island Red and instead scooped up two little ones. I don't know who was more surprised. One of the little ones is a rooster that is just tiny and skinny and has big eyes. He's the cutest little guy I've ever seen and he imagines himself to be a big guy. When we got them home one of our Americauna hens tried bullying him and that little guy stood tall and decided she must have been flirting. Now, chickens don't really have facial expressions, but they do have body language. She was both shocked and freaked out, fluffed out her feathers, bawked loudly and ran off. He was rather pleased with himself. I have named him Norman. (That's another story entirely.)
Why do chickens lay eggs in strange places? I get it when they are really young and just aren't accustomed to it yet. Sometimes they are walking along and suddenly PLOP! and the egg is laid wherever they currently find themselves. We have been attempting to find the nesting spots of the ones that jump out and go free range during the day. About a month or so ago we found a cache of eggs in our front yard deep in some ornamental grass. They were all bad and had to be discarded and we would like to avoid a similar situation. After we found that cache they quit using that spot and we are having to search again. I was on the deck looking out over the yard and talking to one of the cats when I just happened to glance in my terra cotta chiminea. I had to do a double take. The cats nap in it sometimes but it never occurred to me that maybe chickens would lay eggs in it. There were two green eggs inside my chiminea. Later I went back and there was a third egg. Now we are getting a green egg in there 2 out of 3 days. Just one chicken decided it was a good place. Why? I wonder why. Occasionally we find an egg on a wire shelf. Again, why?
We did some yard work last week. The previous owners had evidently used the yard as a dump and did a lot of open burning. We have found a lot of broken glass, half burned plastic and paper stuff, even old wall paper and dry wall. One area in particular has been an eyesore since we moved in with trash constantly working itself to the surface. As I was digging I found some stuff that was interesting. I found a burial ground for a bunch of ceramic items. It was strange digging up one of the three little pigs, then another and then another. Then a large ceramic cat head, a teddy bear, a little unicorn, a goose, a couple of ducks, and more. It was almost archaeological when I found a little dinosaur. I had assistants too. I had chickens scratching and grabbing the worms. I wonder at the age of the items. How long have they been there? Why were completely intact figurines buried? I am actually looking forward to digging deeper. I wonder what I will find next. It will be fun!
The next thing was rescuing some chickens that were seized in Indianapolis. They were not an abuse or neglect case, rather the owner had a little farm in an area that was not zoned for it. Neighbors complained, animals seized, rescues occurred. What we didn't realize was that all but two were cochins. For those who are unaware, cochins are tiny, tiny little chickens weighing ounces not pounds. They have feathers going all the way down their legs and are just total cuteness. So, we brought home 28 new chickens. One Rhode Island Red hen, one Rhode Island Red rooster and 26 little bitty cochins. My personal theory is that we now know where nuggets come from. Catching these little cuties was the funny part. A guy named Bob helped us. He grabbed a cat catching net. I tried using the net to grab a Rhode Island Red and instead scooped up two little ones. I don't know who was more surprised. One of the little ones is a rooster that is just tiny and skinny and has big eyes. He's the cutest little guy I've ever seen and he imagines himself to be a big guy. When we got them home one of our Americauna hens tried bullying him and that little guy stood tall and decided she must have been flirting. Now, chickens don't really have facial expressions, but they do have body language. She was both shocked and freaked out, fluffed out her feathers, bawked loudly and ran off. He was rather pleased with himself. I have named him Norman. (That's another story entirely.)
Why do chickens lay eggs in strange places? I get it when they are really young and just aren't accustomed to it yet. Sometimes they are walking along and suddenly PLOP! and the egg is laid wherever they currently find themselves. We have been attempting to find the nesting spots of the ones that jump out and go free range during the day. About a month or so ago we found a cache of eggs in our front yard deep in some ornamental grass. They were all bad and had to be discarded and we would like to avoid a similar situation. After we found that cache they quit using that spot and we are having to search again. I was on the deck looking out over the yard and talking to one of the cats when I just happened to glance in my terra cotta chiminea. I had to do a double take. The cats nap in it sometimes but it never occurred to me that maybe chickens would lay eggs in it. There were two green eggs inside my chiminea. Later I went back and there was a third egg. Now we are getting a green egg in there 2 out of 3 days. Just one chicken decided it was a good place. Why? I wonder why. Occasionally we find an egg on a wire shelf. Again, why?
We did some yard work last week. The previous owners had evidently used the yard as a dump and did a lot of open burning. We have found a lot of broken glass, half burned plastic and paper stuff, even old wall paper and dry wall. One area in particular has been an eyesore since we moved in with trash constantly working itself to the surface. As I was digging I found some stuff that was interesting. I found a burial ground for a bunch of ceramic items. It was strange digging up one of the three little pigs, then another and then another. Then a large ceramic cat head, a teddy bear, a little unicorn, a goose, a couple of ducks, and more. It was almost archaeological when I found a little dinosaur. I had assistants too. I had chickens scratching and grabbing the worms. I wonder at the age of the items. How long have they been there? Why were completely intact figurines buried? I am actually looking forward to digging deeper. I wonder what I will find next. It will be fun!
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
What Big Ears You Have, or Seasonal Perks
Over the last couple of days I've been thinking about a lot of things. One of my thoughts has been about fall allergies. I can't help but think about it thanks to my sinuses and itchy skin. But, there are perks to this time of year. I love the temps, I love how the dogs act like puppies again and I enjoy going out into the recently harvested corn field and find the leftover ears of corn. We glean them for our chickens and they LOVE corn. We can't cover the 149 acres (I think that's the number), but the edges and corners within easy walking distance are prime areas for finding ears of corn just waiting to be enjoyed by the local wildlife. Typically, the edges of the field have the smallest or deformed ears of corn. This year we have found a fair amount of that, but we also found some huge, even foot long ears. When they were harvesting the other day our free range chickens quickly discovered the bounty and went to town on pigging out. This is not just the season for being thankful for human blessings. There are plenty of blessings for the critters to enjoy too. Our squirrels love the corn. They store the black walnuts for the winter. We have 13 producing walnut trees. It gets difficult to walk through the yard because there are so many walnuts. I have rolled my ankle more than once. The funny thing is that running chickens stepping on a walnut can land on their butts too. But, I digress. It's really easy to get bogged down and focus on what we don't have and wish we could get. I'm just in the frame of mind to see what I do have and the beauty of this season makes it easy. I just wish the chickens would eat walnuts. The squirrels can't keep up.
Yesterday evening my husband and I were scouring another corner when we were joined by four young boys. We had our dogs Scooter, Gretchen and our son's dog Todd with us. The boys wanted to know if Gretchen is a wolf (little kids often think that), what were we doing, why were we doing it, and many more questions. It took just moments until they were picking up corn and helping us out without us asking. We found out their ages are 6,7, 9 and 10. We talked to them about school, reading books, doing homework and more. When we had our load of corn the oldest boy, just ten years old shook my husband's hand and then mine and looked us in the eye when he did it. What great kids! As we walked home we discussed this meeting. My husband said it is interesting how the older we get the less open we are and these boys haven't learned to isolate themselves like so many do as they get to the teen years and older. They are still innocent and open to meeting people. They expect people to be kind to them. I hope they keep that innocence for as long as possible. Their friendliness, curious minds, energy, happiness and the ability to just live in the moment was so refreshing. Just thinking about it makes me happy.
One more thing to share: the chickens are so thrilled with this weather and the snacks that they gave us 15 eggs yesterday. I think that's the most we've ever gotten! And the bounty continues.
Yesterday evening my husband and I were scouring another corner when we were joined by four young boys. We had our dogs Scooter, Gretchen and our son's dog Todd with us. The boys wanted to know if Gretchen is a wolf (little kids often think that), what were we doing, why were we doing it, and many more questions. It took just moments until they were picking up corn and helping us out without us asking. We found out their ages are 6,7, 9 and 10. We talked to them about school, reading books, doing homework and more. When we had our load of corn the oldest boy, just ten years old shook my husband's hand and then mine and looked us in the eye when he did it. What great kids! As we walked home we discussed this meeting. My husband said it is interesting how the older we get the less open we are and these boys haven't learned to isolate themselves like so many do as they get to the teen years and older. They are still innocent and open to meeting people. They expect people to be kind to them. I hope they keep that innocence for as long as possible. Their friendliness, curious minds, energy, happiness and the ability to just live in the moment was so refreshing. Just thinking about it makes me happy.
One more thing to share: the chickens are so thrilled with this weather and the snacks that they gave us 15 eggs yesterday. I think that's the most we've ever gotten! And the bounty continues.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
October 22, 2011 The Weirdness and The Funny Never Ends
I decided to start a blog today. I may not add to it daily, but my life is so full of these unusual moments that I need to record them somewhere. Why not in a blog? Yes, I post some things on Facebook but not all my friends are interested in the funny things that my family does, both the 2-legged and 4-legged variety. This gives me an outlet and if someone wants to read it, then have at it. If not, then go away.
I actually debated starting a blog yesterday afternoon. "Why?" you ask. Well, the absurdity of it all struck me as I started loading the dishwasher. I was looking out the kitchen window and letting my mind wander, as I do frequently when doing household chores. I got the dishwasher loaded and went to grab the final casserole dish which had housed some delicious loaded mashed potatoes. Now, I will freely admit that I do not always wash dishes immediately after a meal. I am not ashamed. I enjoy sitting back and relaxing with my husband and/or kid(s) after a meal. So, this particular dish had sat empty overnight and as you may or may not know, mashed potatoes harden to a cement-like substance. It's always a good idea to at least rinse the dishes if one is not going to immediately wash them. I did not do that. So, I grabbed the dish and was stabbed in the finger by mashed potatoes. I yelled "OW!" which scared a cat and made it run out of the kitchen like it was being hunted by a rabid dog. I looked at my finger and thought to myself, "Who else in the world can say they've been stabbed AND wounded by mashed potatoes?" I wonder about these things.
Today was rather uneventful until about 2 pm when I went out to gather eggs from our chickens. I have to search in 3 separate areas because they all like to lay different places. The normal chickens lay in the nests in the coop, bless them. Then there are those who prefer to go in the old coop and lay their eggs back in a corner. Finally, there is a little old wooden dog house that we put next to the eastern side of the house for those who like to lay their eggs in that region. (I stuck my hand in there the other day and got a handful of cat, but that's another story.) I gathered the eggs and thought that I'd give the chickens a bit of a snack. They enjoy that kind of thing. I opened the garage door and one of our cats, Teeny, immediately went on alert. The twitching tail and the hopping around told me there was a mouse in the vicinity. Note: we are surrounded by about 149 acres of corn fields belonging to the Methodist Church. We see a lot of mice. So, I grabbed the plastic box that he was prancing around, lifted it out of the way for him so he would have better access and he stalked off. I guess he didn't appreciate the help. This plastic storage container just happened to have a partial bag of cracked corn in it as well as a mouse that decided it grew springs in its feet. It started jumping trying to get out of the container. It was kind of cute. Boing, boing, boing.
It was at this point that I recalled a couple of months ago seeing one of our chickens running through the yard carrying a mouse. Our cats are pretty much too lazy to do a whole bunch of hunting, but the chickens apparently are good mousers. Since I was going to give the chickens a snack anyhow, well you see where my mind was headed. I closed the lid on the box, lifted it by its handles and that's when I realized there was more than one mouse in there. Yep, there were two frantically scurrying around the bottom of the box. I chuckled gleefully to myself thinking it was going to be a real hoot for the chickens to have such a chase. And no, I don't feel sorry for the mice. They'll make more.
I carried the box inside the fence and said, "Ooooooh girrrrrrrls, look what I have for you!" A couple of the Barred Rock hens and one of the Americaunas came over to see. I opened the box and boing, boing, boing that little bouncy mouse started up again. So, I tipped the box and it boinged right out and took off. And wouldn't you know it, those chickens all chased it with their beaks at it's tail and their tail feathers up in the air. The mouse was squeaking until a Barred Rock hen grabbed it right in the middle. She went running around and around with the mouse head dangling out of one side of her beak and the mouse butt swinging out of the other side. Suddenly the other hens caught sight of the mouse and they gave chase. In the meantime, I'm standing there yelling, "Hey! I've got another one right here." Chickens are not good listeners.
Eventually they calmed down and I let the other mouse out and it ran off. Let me interject here that people use the term "birdbrain" to describe someone with very small processing capabilities. Let me tell you, this 2nd mouse was dumber than that. It ran out of the chicken wire - smart move - and then back in through the gate - not smart at all. It too was grabbed by a Barred Rock hen. A chicken stampede ensued. I congratulated myself on ridding our garage of the mice AND providing a nice fresh protein snack to the chickens. I told them they deserved a handful of the cracked corn that was in the bag in the box. I opened the bag and suddenly realized that there was not just another mouse, but two inside the bag. "Woohoo, girls" I yelled. The chickens were starting to catch on and gathered around. I let #3 out of the bag and the chase was on. This one ran to the old coop and disappeared. The peahen had also joined in the chase and decided to stake out the coop just in case, but the chickens came back for #4. I let the last one out and it was soon caught, chicken stampede, yada yada yada. I sighed, stretched and decided it was a good day for chickens, bad day for mice. At that point I glanced at the peahen and she was gobbling down the remains of a mouse. Birdbrain? I think not.
I actually debated starting a blog yesterday afternoon. "Why?" you ask. Well, the absurdity of it all struck me as I started loading the dishwasher. I was looking out the kitchen window and letting my mind wander, as I do frequently when doing household chores. I got the dishwasher loaded and went to grab the final casserole dish which had housed some delicious loaded mashed potatoes. Now, I will freely admit that I do not always wash dishes immediately after a meal. I am not ashamed. I enjoy sitting back and relaxing with my husband and/or kid(s) after a meal. So, this particular dish had sat empty overnight and as you may or may not know, mashed potatoes harden to a cement-like substance. It's always a good idea to at least rinse the dishes if one is not going to immediately wash them. I did not do that. So, I grabbed the dish and was stabbed in the finger by mashed potatoes. I yelled "OW!" which scared a cat and made it run out of the kitchen like it was being hunted by a rabid dog. I looked at my finger and thought to myself, "Who else in the world can say they've been stabbed AND wounded by mashed potatoes?" I wonder about these things.
Today was rather uneventful until about 2 pm when I went out to gather eggs from our chickens. I have to search in 3 separate areas because they all like to lay different places. The normal chickens lay in the nests in the coop, bless them. Then there are those who prefer to go in the old coop and lay their eggs back in a corner. Finally, there is a little old wooden dog house that we put next to the eastern side of the house for those who like to lay their eggs in that region. (I stuck my hand in there the other day and got a handful of cat, but that's another story.) I gathered the eggs and thought that I'd give the chickens a bit of a snack. They enjoy that kind of thing. I opened the garage door and one of our cats, Teeny, immediately went on alert. The twitching tail and the hopping around told me there was a mouse in the vicinity. Note: we are surrounded by about 149 acres of corn fields belonging to the Methodist Church. We see a lot of mice. So, I grabbed the plastic box that he was prancing around, lifted it out of the way for him so he would have better access and he stalked off. I guess he didn't appreciate the help. This plastic storage container just happened to have a partial bag of cracked corn in it as well as a mouse that decided it grew springs in its feet. It started jumping trying to get out of the container. It was kind of cute. Boing, boing, boing.
It was at this point that I recalled a couple of months ago seeing one of our chickens running through the yard carrying a mouse. Our cats are pretty much too lazy to do a whole bunch of hunting, but the chickens apparently are good mousers. Since I was going to give the chickens a snack anyhow, well you see where my mind was headed. I closed the lid on the box, lifted it by its handles and that's when I realized there was more than one mouse in there. Yep, there were two frantically scurrying around the bottom of the box. I chuckled gleefully to myself thinking it was going to be a real hoot for the chickens to have such a chase. And no, I don't feel sorry for the mice. They'll make more.
I carried the box inside the fence and said, "Ooooooh girrrrrrrls, look what I have for you!" A couple of the Barred Rock hens and one of the Americaunas came over to see. I opened the box and boing, boing, boing that little bouncy mouse started up again. So, I tipped the box and it boinged right out and took off. And wouldn't you know it, those chickens all chased it with their beaks at it's tail and their tail feathers up in the air. The mouse was squeaking until a Barred Rock hen grabbed it right in the middle. She went running around and around with the mouse head dangling out of one side of her beak and the mouse butt swinging out of the other side. Suddenly the other hens caught sight of the mouse and they gave chase. In the meantime, I'm standing there yelling, "Hey! I've got another one right here." Chickens are not good listeners.
Eventually they calmed down and I let the other mouse out and it ran off. Let me interject here that people use the term "birdbrain" to describe someone with very small processing capabilities. Let me tell you, this 2nd mouse was dumber than that. It ran out of the chicken wire - smart move - and then back in through the gate - not smart at all. It too was grabbed by a Barred Rock hen. A chicken stampede ensued. I congratulated myself on ridding our garage of the mice AND providing a nice fresh protein snack to the chickens. I told them they deserved a handful of the cracked corn that was in the bag in the box. I opened the bag and suddenly realized that there was not just another mouse, but two inside the bag. "Woohoo, girls" I yelled. The chickens were starting to catch on and gathered around. I let #3 out of the bag and the chase was on. This one ran to the old coop and disappeared. The peahen had also joined in the chase and decided to stake out the coop just in case, but the chickens came back for #4. I let the last one out and it was soon caught, chicken stampede, yada yada yada. I sighed, stretched and decided it was a good day for chickens, bad day for mice. At that point I glanced at the peahen and she was gobbling down the remains of a mouse. Birdbrain? I think not.
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