Case of the Concealed Chicks

I was reading my morning literature, when Husband came in.
"Did you pick up the eggs outside the hen house?"
I looked up.  "No, Salt had went right back to the nest, so I just let her set."
"Well, there's no eggs, and I don't see her, either."

Uh, oh...

I set down the comics, to follow Husband out to the back of the hen house, where there was one bedraggled egg, and nothing else. Oh, dear. But no feathers, no smashed eggs, or torn up shrubbery.

Strange.

I walked around, fearing the worst, when we found a dead chick.  I told Husband that meant she might have fought off something. (We have a multitude of wild critters around.) No hint of her anywhere outside. I decided to feed, to get the other chickens out from underfoot.

I had just cleaned out the area around the feed barrels, and Husband had put a piece of plywood by them to store.  I opened the barrel, and heard a chicken growl.  That is a distinctive "Mama Chicken" sound. Knowing that Edgar was outside, it clicked that there was someone else with chicks.  I listened carefully, and heard the growl again, and peeps.  I carefully moved the plywood back, to find Salt with 4 chicks!

I tried to get Husband's attention, but he couldn't hear me. I turned to put the plywood back, and realized Marshmallow was off the nest.  I walked to her, and SHE growled, and two little heads poked out from under her wing. 

So we took care of the one dead chick, then looked over the rest.  Most of them are Maran types, cute little black puffballs.  One or two are yellow white puffballs. 

I had talked about buying some chicks this year to Husband.  Looking at the 11 we have at this point, he grinned and quipped, "and you wanted to buy a few chicks!" And laughed! 

The saga is continuing, too, as Auntie Bird is still sitting. I had given her three eggs to work on.

Last time I checked it, there was about 10.

I will never learn...     :)

A new chicken roller...

I feed my chickens (when it's wet, mostly), in a long feeder.  It's a long metal 'trough' that is supposed to have a bar at the top, so the chickens won't stand IN the feeder to eat. 

I don't know when it happened, but my feeder was in pretty rough shape, and when I have been feeding them inside of late, (NOT like any rain in the south, but we have been getting some rain here, oddly...), two or three chickens will insist on standing in the center, which blocks the other chickens from eating... And, sometimes the solid fuel exhaust gets put in the feed.  EEEEEEEEEEEW!!!

So, I finally remembered to get a heavy dowel on my last trip into town, and had a little confab with Husband about putting it on the feeder.  He looked at the poor thing, and said, is the foot SUPPOSED to look like this?  Um, no, I think it may have been run over?  (To this day, I have NO clue what happened, but the bar was bent nearly in half, and the foot was crushed, even the trough itself was squashed, but I managed to get that back to useability.)  He hmmed for a moment, and said, let me see what I can do.

He came back in with the feeder, and the first thing I notice, the center roller was white, not wood.  He explained, he put a bit of PVC pipe he had over it, to protect the wood, and he waxed the PVC, so that the chickens couldn't stand on it.  (The dowel rolls quite smoothly...)  Then he showed me where the smashed foot was, and it was as if it was new!  He'd taken both out, and bent the one to match the other. 

And so now, I have a chicken feeder that looks very much like a nice tool box, with feet.  I gave it a 'test feed' the other day, and nearly hurt myself laughing!  Edgar, one of my most obnoxious bold hens, jumped right up on the roller.  Then Marshmallow did, too.  And they realized that they couldn't keep their footing.  They both tried running, to keep up with the roll of the center, and then WHOOSH, both go zooming off, landing in a heap by the feeder. 

Do they give up?

Of course not. 

It took Marshmallow about 3 tries to get the clue she couldn't stand on it, and Edgar, the better part of 3 DAYS... But, they aren't jumping up on it anymore. 

Now Jet Puff, on the other hand, got the bright idea to stand straddle of the roller, with one foot on either side.  Oh, great, thought I...  But he learned that he isn't well appreciated for  that, as his toes were pecked, and his tail feathers pulled.  Whereupon, he jumped on the roller...

No one seems inclined to have breakfast on the run anymore!