Hunkering Down

Reverend Mother always says when the Lord closes a door, somewhere he opens a window.

Lots of changes in the coop!

First, we had to bid adieu to Wendy/Walter. He just couldn't stay, for what would the neighbors think (at 6 AM)? Robert from The Urban Farm Store, where we purchesed our chicks, was kind enough to help find a loving home -- a farmer who wanted a rooster for his flock. We will always remember you, young lad, for your impeccable roosting skills. Fare thee well!

Next, we had John Bake come and extend the ladies' habitat. Hannah is planning to build a ladder for them to navigate down to their play area, where they will feast on worms and bugs and slugs. Doesn't the extension look nice?



And finally, John brought over two nice young pretty-sure-they're-ladies for us, for a grand total of 5! The two additions are a Barred Plymouth Rock and the beautiful Golden Laced Wyandotte. Here's what she'll look like as an adult:



The former has already been named. She will be called WendyTooIsNotARoo, or actually WendyToo for short in honor of the brother she will never meet. The jury's still out on the Wyandotte: Hannah wants 'Tiffany', I prefer 'CindyLauper', but truth be told, I think a great compromise would be 'Lisa P' from the movie Adventureland.





The new gals seem much younger than their new friends; I'd guess by two or three weeks. Also, there doesn't seem to be much intermingling going on - for now, it's 2 versus 3...

Day 2

7:18 AM

"Cock a doodle doo"

"Good morning Walter"

...
...
...
portland city ordinance
...
"Roosters are prohibited in residential zoning districts."

A Dude?

With Hannah out of town, Ollie and were woken with the sun to a strange sound coming from outside. It almost sounded like a 9 week old chick trying to crow. I decided to reserve judgement.

Later in the day, I caught Wendy (Walter?) in the act of crowing. Uh oh... Apparently, the dominant lady can sometimes act the part of the protector, so we don't know anything for sure yet.



Here's what WikiAnswers.com says about the matter:

"
The easiest way to know what gender chickens are by the novice small flock owner is to care for the birds until they begin showing the natural secondary characteristics of their gender.

In males, the combs and wattles will become larger than those on females and the head will become more angular and masculine looking.
(check - see waddle and comb)

Spurs will start to develop on the inside on the leg of the male.
(not yet - hope it stays that way...)

The female will remain smaller than the male and is more refined or feminine looking.
(check - Walter is much larger than the others)

They may also make cackling sounds as the reassure the hens that they are looking out for them.
(check)
"

Stay tuned...

"Ladies"

The weather has turned here and the ladies have finally moved into their new digs. The first few days, we put them out in the coop in the daytime and let them wander, but brought them back in at night because they seemed so shell-shocked. On the third night, the air was a bit warmer and they didn't want to leave the coop to return to their stinky, moldy, damp cardboard box. They quickly understood that the coop was, indeed, the place to be.



The coop is great for us as well. Not just because our house no longer smells like a barnyard, but because the food and water only needs to be dealt with every three or four days now. The ladies can just go about their clucky business and we don't need to pay them any mind, really. Of course, at any given moment, MB and Ollie are sitting up there watching them, or I'm bringing them kitchen scraps, or folks in the neighborhood are stopping by on their bikes, or our young neighbors Natalie and Nicholas (who have been given an all areas pass) are sitting quietly chatting with them. These are very social creatures.



I'm thoroughly enjoying the placement of the coop now that it's warm outside and the window above my kitchen sink is open. While I'm standing at the sink (oh, so often), I watch people constantly ride and walk by and gesture to the coop. Often, I say hello and get questions about where the coop came from and about how much work the flock takes. It's great--and surprising-- to be able to say that the flock takes almost no work at all.

Tomorrow, our coop builder John Bake returns to build a chicken run for the gals that will allow them access to the backyard. Madness will ensue.

xo.
ht

Field Trip

The big day is rapidly approaching... In preparation, we took the ladies out for a little outdoor practice!

Guest blogger: Oliver the dog

Hello, dear readers-- I only have a moment. Hannah doesn't know I'm posting.

Today is my birthday. I'm three today, which-- as Marc pointed out last night at dinner-- is roughly 30 in dog years. This creeped Hannah out because she doesn't like to think of me as her age, so we stopped talking about it.

When I was small, birthdays were easy. Throw me a bone, give me a toy, I was happy.



That's because I didn't know any better.

Readers, something has come to my attention and I need your help.

Please help me eat one of the chickens in our basement for my birthday.

I'm not asking for all four. I don't even need two. I just need to eat one chicken. I 'visit' them every day to feed them with Marc or when Hannah does the laundry, but thus far I have been unsuccessful in my attempts to sneak into the basement unnoticed. Even if I were to get down there alone, the chickens are high up and I cannot reach.

Please. Someone. Find a way into our house and help me with this task. I'll totally split the chicken with you if you're into it.

Otherwise, I'll be subjected to this for another four to six weeks:



Unacceptable.

Yours very sincerely,
Ollie