It's a Chicken, No, a Turkey, No, a Chicken!

When the foster chickies were purchased a couple of weeks ago, they looked like little eggs with feet. They peeped, they pooped and they pecked their way through their little home. They didn't have any feathers yet, just a lot of fluff in various shades of white, brown, and black. Typical little ameraucana chickies.

It didn't take but a few days though and tiny wing feathers started to show as the little cluckers stretched their wings and found that they could flap and move even faster by using these new tools. Their whole appearance also started to change as feathers appeared at their tails, on their backs and at their feet. They were becoming teenage chickies.

During this first change, I noticed that one little clucker looked a lot different than her siblings-- her feathers curled outward and were skinnier than the rest. She still looked like an ameraucana with her markings, but definitely had the feathers of a turkey. What the cluck?!?!

She was happy and healthy though-- gobbling up food like crazy and doing her part to establish who had the rule of the roost in their clucker crib. I thought maybe her unusual plummage was something that she was going to grow out of-- maybe the feathers would straighten themselves out as they grew.

Not quite.

Her wing feathers grew larger and it was apparent that she would need to work on gaining more strength to keep the wings folded on her back like her more prim and proper chickie buddies. Until that time came, her wings would hang a little lower and prompted a name given lovingly from her Clucker Mother, "Turkey". This didn't seem to phase her-- she preened her funky feathers just as fastidiously as her flock mates.

This Clucker Mother celebrates uniqueness and excitedly sent a photo to little Turkey's Feather Father thinking that he would celebrate the joy of his soon-to-be-his, unique, baby as well.

Feather Father was less than pleased, responding: "Those are some messed up feathers." What the cluck?!?! How could the cuteness of this little one not be looked at with awe and wonderment of what she will become as she grows? Maybe she's a rare breed of chicken, a real, live Turkchicken! No mish-mashed weird meat stuffing of one bird into another as is done during Thanksgiving--completely what the cluck?!?

"Turkey" is growing perfectly in spite of her oddity and in celebration of her feathers regardless of what her future owner may think. She pecks and peeps with the best of them and doesn't shy away from her flock mates. I honestly think little Turkey knows she's something special. At least, this Mother Clucker thinks so. 

Eggactly the Perfect Easter Basket

Happy Easter to all! This year it's especially happy for me because the little chickies that I was raising at this time last year are now happily roaming the backyard and producing happy colorful gems in their nesting boxes. In fact, I enjoyed one of those lovely beauties for breakfast today.

I've loved watching everyone post about dyeing Easter eggs and I had to write about my own Easter basket that I get every day. I don't have to use any food coloring or, as I've seen in some videos, nail polish(?!). What the cluck? Nope, I go out to my henhouse every evening after coming home from work and discover 2 to 4 eggs in varying hues of peach, pink, and the most fun of all-- blue!

I thought after a few months of gathering eggs, I'd tire of opening the door to the nesting boxes and collecting the ladies' daily gifts. To tell the truth, I still get excited when I find an egg. I try very hard to respect the cluckers' privacy when they're sitting on the nests-- I figure that's private time for the hen and since I'm going to be taking what she's left behind soon, I might as well let her enjoy her time in there as much as possible. I like to think that I have happy hens who produce great tasting eggs.

So far, I think that's worked out pretty well. Everyone who has received eggs from the girls say that they taste delicious and I have to agree with them (though I am a little biased).

Every day for me is like Easter Sunday when I find those colored eggs and I love it!

The Poop of the Matter

Anyone who has had a baby animal or even a baby human child knows that they poop, and poop a lot! The same goes for little chickies and, I think, even moreso since their little systems are very quick to have food go in and mess come out. If you're caring for anything alive, you have to be okay with poop.

The little chickies that I'm currently raising are turning two weeks old tomorrow on Easter. After a couple of weeks of eating, drinking, pooping, shedding baby fuzz and goodness knows what else, it was time for a bedding change this morning in their little clucker crib. I couldn't stand to see them fluttering their budding feathers in their own filth; although they didn't seem to mind at all. Typical kids, right?

Cleaning the clucker crib needed to be a smooth, quick, operation so that I didn't stress out the little ones and didn't get them too cold in the process. They've been using the light in their container as their little sauna and I was going to have to take that away from them for a short time. I gathered the materials I was going to need; trash bag for the old bedding, bag of pine shavings for new bedding, and small cardboard box (just happened to be an Upland Wheat beer box - ha!) to hold the little cluckers. I was ready!

I tried to move as quickly as hens charging after a fresh batch of superworms but ended up running into a few snags. Immediately after getting the chickies into the beer box, I went to move the clucker crib and instantly tipped over their waterer that I had set aside on the floor (thinking it was out of the way)-- spilling about half of it onto the carpet. Cluck! I righted the waterer and then began to scoop bedding out of the clucker crib. The trash bag that I had wasn't large enough to stay open and bedding began to tumble out of my scoop and onto the floor as well. Son of a cluck! This was frustrating.  I pressed on though-- listening to my little group of chickies that were now sitting quietly in their little box-- I'm sure thinking "what the cluck is our Mother Clucker doing?!"

I managed to get the last of the dirty bedding out of the container and quickly grabbed the pine shavings bag and poured new, fresh bedding in. Whew! I'd made it! I picked up their waterer and placed it, then took the feeder and set that in place. Then I began to gently place the chicks in their clean digs. They were very vocal right away-- not sure if that was because they were happy that their home was clean or, more likely, that the new bedding was cooler than it was before. I fastened the lid on their little home and then started hearing a "peck, peck, peck peck peck peck..." What in the world? I peeked into the box and noticed that since I had put less bedding in this second time around, they were able to see the bottom of the box and had noticed that it was a different material and-- surprise-- made sound! Chickies are so easily entertained.

As I cleaned the mess around the clucker crib; mopping up the water and vacuuming the shavings that had fallen, I heard the loud vocalization from before calm and started to hear that little trill that chickies make when they're happy. If there are any other clucker mothers out there-- you know what sound I'm talking about-- it's one of my favorites!

A Foster Clucker Mother

It was bound to happen. I'm a Mother Clucker again. This time, however, I'm only a temporary one (at least, for the moment).

The original plan was to add one of the rare breeds of chickens to my little flock of 4. I had my heart set on a lavender orpington and I knew that there would be no way that I could raise one chick by itself for multiple reasons; one, she would get cold even with a heat lamp and two, she'd be lonely since chickens are flock animals and need at least one buddy.

I had a Cluck Buddy of my own who was wanting to raise another group of chicks to replace his flock of 6 who were massacred by a duo of dogs at the dawn of the new year. This seemed to be the perfect plan-- I'd get my one lavender chick and raise this one with the others. I wouldn't get attached to the others-- they'd just be there to keep my little chick warm and company until she was old enough to join my ladies out in the Cluck House.

As fate would have it, once I got the new chicks and they were settled, the lavender orpington wasn't strong enough to survive and she died on the second day that she was with me. This presented a whole new challenge-- would I call the Cluck Buddy and tell him that he needed to come get his chicks to raise on his own or would I continue to raise the remaining chicks and order another lavender? Of course, the latter is what happened.

I swore that I would not get attached to these temporary chicks while in my wait for a new chick. I wouldn't name them, I wouldn't pay much attention to them beyond making sure that they were fed, warm, watered and bottoms cleaned when needed. Yeah, that lasted all of 3 days.

Three of these chicks now have names; Turkey, Buttercup and Vanilla and I'm thinking that I need to name the other two as well (you know, so they don't feel left out). I say "hello" to them every morning and every evening when I come home. I've gotten to know their personalities and I've gotten intimate with them in cleaning their little bottoms when they forget to wipe. Side note: neither one of us, chick nor Mother Clucker, enjoys having to wash dirty bottoms.

It's going to be hard to let them go in just a few short weeks when they go to my Cluck Buddy's home in the country.

Meanwhile, I wait for the arrival of my new lavender orpingtons (yes, you read that correctly-- there will be more than one that is coming- stay tuned for that story in another post). I'm trying to be the best Foster Mother Clucker in the meantime and will keep talking to them and keeping the little cluckers happy.

No Mowing Needed?

As you've gathered if you've read any of my other entries-- my feathered friends are now over a year old and are allowed to free range throughout my yard during the day. It's pretty easy for both of us-- they get to eat their fill of bugs; cicadas, bees, mosquitoes, and also as much as grass as they'd like and I get a break in needing to fill their 7 lb. feeder every day.

There's just one problem with an all-you-can-eat-grass buffet-- the grass is now slowly disappearing.

Last year at this time the lawn was lush and very green and I was contemplating mowing early. I waited though, knowing that I had small chicks indoors who would soon be moved outside and would thoroughly enjoy the fresh blades as they learned about their new world. When I brought them out to live in the coop that I had built, the new chicks hungrily gobbled up the green-- making it so that I only had to mow once a month or so. This was great with me then, not so much now.

Now, the yard is dotted with dirt/dust pits and little tufts of grass that futilely attempt to grow. I noticed this evening that the peonies, that I was given from a friend who moved last year, have been dug up in spots with hungry appetites wanting to find those new earthworms and grubs that have survived the freezing of winter and are now starting to make their way back to the surface to eat, but also risk being eaten.

I knew this stage was coming, but didn't realize it would happen so quickly. In curiosity this evening, I peeked through the slats of my 6ft privacy fence at the neighbor's yard and noticed nice, green, lush grass. I was jealous for just a moment, but then I remembered-- I got the chickens because I liked the chickens and liking the chickens means that I take them with everything they give; both good (eggs, insect eaters and comedy) and bad (a yard that is slowly resembling barren wasteland). I'll take that, even though my mind says "what the cluck?"

I Got Worms!

It's a busy time of the year on my little urban farm. I have new chicks that I'm raising indoors until they're old enough, who peep at different times of the day; one of my cats, Blackie, keeps going inside, then going outside; my adult chickens are enjoying sunning themselves on the warming days and grabbing every new blade of grass that grows and well, yes, it finally happened-- I GOT WORMS!

Okay, so I'm sure you're saying "What the Cluck?!?!" to that. I think about the character Lloyd in the movie Dumb and Dumber and every time I think it, I laugh. Believe it or not, it wasn't the animals in my little urban farm that gave me worms-- I blame Petco. Okay, so it wasn't Petco's fault-- it's Rural King! Yeah, Rural King! The farm store with the giant 20 oz. bag of freeze dried mealworms that proclaimed loudly on the front of the bag "Your birds will love you for it!"  My current adult birds have just passed their one year of age mark and when I first got them, I didn't know squat about raising chickens. I asked a few friends who were less than willing to offer advice and gleaned every ounce of information I could from just about every chicken blog/info. site out there. I thought the chickens would like to have the freeze dried worms-- no, rather, they NEEDED to have the freeze-dried, crusty nasty things! After all, I wanted my birds to love me for it!

The freeze dried creatures didn't come cheaply-- 20 oz. for around $20 and all it took was a few feedings with them and now the bag is like chicken crack. All I have to do is go inside and grab the blue bag and no matter where my birds are in the yard-- they come charging like American Pharoah on Preakness Day! They don't move away from the bag at all either. I can move the bag behind me and they lag behind, I move the bag out to a stretched arm's length-- they look at it with Pavlov dog's eyes. I swear if a chicken could drool for wanting a treat, these girls would! So, a sucker was born with the freeze dried mealworms.

I've been purchasing the blue bag every few months or so and using it as bribery bait to get the girls to go willingly into their coop at night. It's a little bedtime snack and the equivalent, I guess, to a chicken wanting a glass of warm milk and being tucked in. One evening, I was curious to the origin of the worms so I looked on the bag. There, in the fine print, was the country of origin; China.

Now, I don't have a problem with China at all- no problem with the language, the food, etc. But the fact that these worms had traveled such a far distance and fed goodness knows what and stored in goodness knows where, made me think twice about the eggs that my girls produce. I'm sure that everything is great-- no one who has eaten the eggs from these happy chickens has suffered any ill effects (or at least, not that they're telling me- ha!) and the birds seem very happy and healthy, but I guess it was my want and need to have a hand in another aspect of producing food and to feed the thing that produces the food for the humans, good quality food as well. I wanted to raise my own mealworms to feed to my little cluckers.

I began doing all sorts of research on how to raise mealworms, things that honestly look like they've just crawled from some dead carcass, took steroids and ended up in a tray of dancing oatmeal. It didn't seem terribly difficult so took the plunge and purchased the items I'd need for my own mealworm haven.

First were the worms, I visited my local Petco and went to the reptile section where I found that not only were there mealworms available, but mealworms by varying quantity, size, and type. I also noted the prices of the "premium" reptile food. $3.99 for 25 mealworms. Yikes! Well, this was why I was wanting to raise my own-- I shouldn't let cost be a factor. I bravely opened the lid to one of the 25 mealworms container. I saw sawdust and three dead mealworms resting on top of the bedding. Hmm, that's nice, I thought, they sell the package as 25 mealworms, but three of them are already dead?! What the  Cluck?!?! I gingerly moved my finger through the bedding, finding another, and another and another dead mealworm. This wouldn't do at all! I moved from the 25 mealworms to the next level up and more costly, the 50 mealworms. This container also had the statement "Superworms" on the front of it. Wow, I thought-- these must really be something!

I opened the lid to the "Superworms" and saw 10 very fat, very active worms moving on the top of the bedding in this container. This was my winner! Perfect breeding stock! *stifle laughter here* I noted the price, $5.99, and proceeded to approach the front counter with my purchase. Check out was a breeze and as I walked to my car I realized that I needed to get the three drawer container that I had seen in almost all of the YouTube videos on how to raise mealworms. I also needed to get carrots, oats and window screen. I looked at my choice of stores available as I touched the handle to my Honda Fit. Walmart. Walmart was going to be my best choice for getting all of these things and getting home before the sun went down so I could watch my girls in the yard for a few moments. Side note-- don't ask me why, but I love watching the birds peck and scratch, especially at the end of a long day of work.

Those who know me well, know I absolutely abhor Walmart. I don't like having to go into the store, I don't like shopping there-- I really don't like much at all about it The parking lot is scary and people race through the aisles like they're at a NASCAR race. Now, I apologize to those who like and love the store-- I think it's great that you like it. It's just not my thing. However, it was going to be my best chance for success to find the four things that I needed to complete my worm start up kit so into the store I went.

Fortunately, I found my items quickly and now that there is a self-serve checkout-- I was out in just a few minutes with a huge roll of screen, a three drawer container, some carrots and a tub of oats. I wasn't sure whether to get quick or old fashioned oats so I opted for the later thinking the crawlies would like those better.

 



I came home with my worm start up kit and assembled the three drawer rolling cart. Unfortunately one of the casters on it didn't want to fit in the hole provided so I took care of that quickly-- drill bit to the rescue! I poured the package of oats into one of the drawers, snapped a whole carrot in half and tossed that into the oats and then released the worms. They immediately started burrowing into the substrate-- giving the appearance of bubbling oatmeal. Gross, I thought. I knew that I needed to get the bottom cut out of one of the drawers and the screen applied, but I thought I'd do one more check of one of the YouTube videos that I had saw that showed how to do the screen.

What I found was that I had just purchased the wrong type of mealworm. Apparently, the Superworms are extremely difficult to make more of and require a lot more work. Great. Well, we'll let those Superworms enjoy an evening or two in their little worm Hilton and then, when I get the regular mealworms, we'll let nature happen the way it's supposed to and the chickens will be well fed that day. What the Cluck?!?!