Can you hear it too...?

Micky, my little Black Silkie, has this peculiar habit of stopping mid-stride and cocking her head to one side as if listening to something. She sometimes stands like that for a minute or two and I often then think that there’s something peculiar in the garden, but no matter how I look or listen, there’s never anything. Then she’ll go on her way scratching and pecking as if nothing happened. But she is rather a skittish little girl, so maybe it’s just her way of being careful.

When she was a couple of days old she almost succumbed to Fowl Pox, but I managed to pull her through, but it left her much smaller (and cuter!) than all my other chickens. And with a few extra peculiar quirks!

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The benefits of free range eggs (for the chicken) Sensitive information

My girls supply me with 4 or 5 beautiful free range eggs every day and they are quite happy supplying these. They get to roam the garden, grazing, hunting insects and having lovely sand baths in stead of spending their lives in a 8″ × 12″ wire cage (the size of an A4 sheet of paper). They get to choose when to go to bed and when to lay their eggs, following Mother Nature’s natural daylight cycle in stead of their “daylight” being on a timer and being woken up 2 o’clock in the morning and being forced to lay another egg, giving 1½ eggs a day instead of the normal 1 egg every two days. They lie in the sun, spreading their wings and soaking up the sun’s Vit. D in stead of having Vit. D pumped into them via additions to their food. They exercise regularly by chasing insects (and one another!) in stead of being cramped up in those 8″ × 12″ wire cages with not even room above their heads to stretch their legs. They get to socialise and experience family bonds, something which a battery chicken will never know. My girls are not culled when they get to the end of their egg-laying cycle, but in stead get to live a happy, healthy and fulfilled life.

It is sad what we do to our animals in order that we may eat and survive…

“I am battery hen. I live in a cage so small I cannot stretch my wings. I am forced to stand night and day on a sloping wire mesh floor that painfully cuts into my feet. The cage walls tear my feathers, forming blood blisters that never heal. The air is so full of ammonia that my lungs hurt and my eyes burn and I think I am going blind. As soon as I was born, a man grabbed me and sheared off part of my beak with a hot iron, and my little brothers were thrown into trash bags as useless, alive.

My mind is alert and my body is sensitive and I should have been richly feathered. In nature or even a farmyard I would have had sociable, cleansing dust baths with my flock mates, a need so strong that I perform ‘vacuum’ dust bathing on the wire floor of my cage. Free, I would have ranged my ancestral jungles and fields with my mates, devouring plants, earthworms, and insects from sunrise to dusk. I would have exercised my body and expressed my nature, and I would have given, and received, pleasure as a whole being. I am only a year old, but I am already a ‘spent hen.’

Humans, I wish I were dead, and soon I will be dead. Look for pieces of my wounded flesh wherever chicken pies and soups are sold."
Info

Read more about The Life of one Battery Hen. (Sensitive information - I cried when I read it...)

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Season's Greetings! 2015!

Camera : Canon EOS 550D

My chooks taken in my garden (Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa)

Background texture by Kim Klassen
Edited in MS PowerPoint

We have never had snow over Christmas in South Africa (not that I can remember anyway), but I’m sure if we did, my chooks would be absolutely thrilled!

May you have a wonderful festive season with friends and loved ones this year!

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Solly's dustbin chook, Mr. Brown

This is Solly’s chook, Mr. Brown, one of the dustbin chicks born a few months ago. He’s turned into a beautiful rooster, obviously of mixed blood as his feathers are like those of a Silkie. But what makes him adorable is the fact that he talks to me – whenever he sees me, he utters this whole repertoire of cackles and croaks all the while staring me straight in the eye. He’s also very tame, sitting down when I put my hand on his back and then allowing me to pick him up for a cuddle. Normally all Solly’s chicks that turn out to be roosters are destined for the pot, but I’ve asked him nicely to spare Mr. Brown. (Solly is our mechanic/handyman and he has all these chickens that wander all over our smallholding and usually end up breeding somewhere in my garden!)

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Half a beauty!

Artemis during his moult. Half his cape and half his beautiful tail feathers are gone, but it won’t be long before they are all replaced by healthy, more beautiful than ever, new feathers!

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The way of nature

Nature - it is breathtakingly beautiful, it is life, it is death. Nature brings us great joy, but it is full of sadness as well. That is the way of Nature.

The great debate is whether one should interfere with nature or not, whether to help or 'rescue' an animal in peril or not. The problem is that it is human nature to rescue things and my take on it is normally to let nature take its course. If you should find a baby bird in your garden, it is best to leave it alone as the parents know it's there and will continue feeding it. That is how it learns to fly, how it gets to know its territory and learns all it needs from its parents for survival. If you have dogs or cats, this could present a problem, so, if possible, try and get the fledgling back to its nest or at least up into a tree. It's a myth that the parents will abandon it if they 'smell human contact' on their baby, they will still keep on tending to it.

But sometimes one is presented with a situation where it is impossible not to interfere or to help, like finding an owl entangled in a barbed wire fence or finding an animal with a serious injury that requires medical attention. And living on a smallholding in the country, I am often faced with scenarios like that.

On the home-front side, it's terribly hard to watch when a hen decides it's time for her babies to make their own way in the world. But that's the way of nature. Solly's hen (above) had 8 of the most gorgeous babies and she was a really wonderful other, tending to their every need, finding them succulent insects and protecting them and keeping them warm.

But when they were the tender age of 7 weeks, she decided it was time to go back to Mr. Rooster and besides, nature was calling and she wanted to lay an egg. She started pecking and chasing them and generally being nasty until they were too scared to go near her. She then took off in search of Mr. Rooster. They clumped together, walking around the property, constantly calling for her, absolutely breaking my heart.

One of the chicks, forlornly standing at my studio door and constantly calling for mommy

They soon found solace in my garden where they kept close to me as I went about my chores. They knew me very well, as from birth I would take them snacks and seeds which they eagerly took out of my hands. They even allowed me to pick them up, trustingly sitting in my hand while I cuddled them. 

Now they are almost 4 months old, just about fully grown and quite independent, joining the rest of Solly's chickens when I feed in the mornings and afternoons and often looking for me in the house, hoping for a snack of minced meat, their favourite.

Yesterday I heard a strange, forlorn call in my garden, and not recognising it, I went outside to investigate. There was this 'unknown' bird sitting on my internet aerial, so I got the binoculars to have a better look and soon realised it was a juvenile Red-winged Starling, therefore I never recognised it's call. I have never heard a young Starling calling for its parents and it sat there for a half an hour, calling and calling, with no response from anybody, until it eventually took off to search somewhere else. So, so sad...

Many a time I have also watched as the Mynah's lead their off-spring out of the garden, taking them to another area to fend for themselves, returning alone a couple of days later. That is nature's way of protecting the food source in an area and from over-population. However, Laughing Doves do not seem to adhere to this law of nature - I have hundreds in my garden - where they breed, they feed! Smile!

 Laughing Doves early watching and waiting as I prepare the feed tables at 6am.

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Peeps

Camera : Canon EOS 550 

Taken in my studio (Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa)

After being abandoned by his mother at far to early an age, Peeps often follows Snoodles into my studio, hops up on my desk and takes a break on the window sill or on top of my speaker on my desk.

 

Peeps was born 3 weeks after Snoodles (one of the original dustbin chicks), and was an only child. Mommy had 10 eggs, but due to weeks of heavy rain, Peeps was the only one to emerge after the designated 19 days of brooding. Mommy was absolutely wonderful with Peeps, protecting him when he was cold, finding him the tastiest morsels, showing him all the corners of the garden and teaching him the way of chickens.

Normally baby chicks stay with their Mommy for about 7-8 weeks, after which she regards them as grown-up enough to fend for themselves. Besides which, she starts longing for Mr. Rooster and getting the urge to lay eggs, so that's perfectly understandable. But Mommy started getting these urges when Peeps was a mere 4 weeks old and summarily abandoned him in search of Mr. Rooster.

Peeps wandered the garden for 3 days, desperately calling to his mother, but to no avail. She had moved on. But soon he sought the company of Snoodles who, herself, was a bit of a loner, growing up in my studio and not mixing with the other chickens much when she was out in the garden. He started following her around, coming into my studio to eat when she ate and soon became quite at home here.

But every night I tried to put him back outside to find his Mommy and besides, he had his usual little sleeping place out in the garden shed. After a few failed attempts I gave up, and he joined Snoodles in her basket at night, the two of them snuggling comfortably in one another's company.

The two of them became have now become inseparable and spend their days together, foraging in the garden and keeping out of the way of the grown-ups, who will not let a chance go by to let them know they are new-comers and better behave!

The next challenge is getting Snoodles and Peeps integrated into the flock. They're ready to leave the basket and it's time for them to move into the coop with Artemis and the rest of the girls...

 

Snoodles in the garden

 

 

Snoodles taking a turn on the speaker, looking to see who's outside

Snoodles roosting on Jacko's chair, much to his disgust - his chair is private property!

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I can see the weekend from here!

Camera : Canon EOS 550D

Focal length : 300

F number : 7,1

Exposure time : 1/500

 

Artemis surveying my garden from his favourite vantage point. From here he can see the weekend coming, keep an eye on his girls and make sure nobody is doing anything untoward!

 

Artemis likes being on top of things! From here he can keep an eye on all the girls who are scattered all over the garden, much to his consternation.

Artemis surveying the world while Hettie contentedly scratches in the compost heap.

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Time flies and Snoodles is growing up

Time flies, but the memories collected along the way can never be replaced. 

- Ashley Tisdale

It's almost the end of November and Christmas is just around the corner! Can you believe how time flies?!

And Snoodles (the dustbin chick straight of the egg) has been growing just as fast. One of these days she will be joining all the other girls in the chicken coup. No more sleeping in a basket in front of my bed - already it's difficult to get her to settle down at night, she is not content with sleeping under a towel anymore, looking for something to roost on - and she's waking up earlier and earlier every day, virtually taking her cue from Artemis when he starts crowing at 4am! Here are a couple of pics showing her progress.

Snoodles taking her first sand-bath

Snoodles just a couple of weeks ago

Snoodles on the lawn early this morning

Listening intently to Artemis crowing

Snoodles at the pond. Very alarmed, she saw Torti, my Leopard tortoise going past

What on earth is that? I'd better get out of here!

Snoodles just 5 weeks ago!

They say time flies when you're having fun, so here's to another fun-filled year ahead of us!

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I've lost my Chi-Chi!

Day 1

Seven and a half months ago I found Chi-Chi outside, virtually abandoned by her mother and very weak, couldn't keep up with the family. So of course she was brought inside, put in a basket with a hot water bottle and lovingly pampered over the next few weeks.

Chi-Chi at 2 weeks old

Chi-Chi at 5 weeks old

Chi-Chi at 8 weeks and just starting to sport her little hat 

Chi-Chi at 6 months old and getting the nesting urge

Chi-Chi fully independent

After spending six months with me, following me everywhere and often having sojourns outside to the garden and mixing with all the other girls, Chi-Chi has finally left home. She's independent. She's left me. She's fully integrated into the flock now. Her pecking order has been established - she's not right at the bottom of the ladder, that is reserved for ChickyBoo and Micky, but at least she's somewhere in the middle, with the older girls like Kiep, Hettie and Megs still ruling the roost.

She's still very loving and lets met pick her up, carry her around and have some cuddles, but other than that, she's a flock member now. Even laid her second egg in one of the nest boxes in the coop (the one that seems to be favoured by EVERYBODY - they'll stand in queue for hours cackling and fighting about that one nest box and there are nine!), the first egg was laid in the nest I have in my studio (pic above).

And she takes her duty as a flock member very seriously. She dutifully runs up to Artemis when he calls with a tit-bit, stays well out of Meg, Kiep and Hettie's way and also partakes in pecking and chasing ChickyBoo and Micky every chance she gets. It's hard work being a flock member, you have to constantly be aware of what coop politics are taking place currently and keep up with all the latest news. Like the fact that Micky is broody and even though she's the flock's scape-goat, broody time is no time to be messing with someone wanting to sit on eggs.

Micky, the little black hen on the left, keeping an eye on Chi-Chi at supper-time.

I miss having my little Chi-Chi around but I am also extremely happy that her integration into the flock was so effortless and that she's finally no longer an outsider.

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Snoodles, the dustbin chick

Little Snoodles reaching up to take a tit-bit from my fingers

This is Snoodles, the little chick I pulled out of the egg after rescuing it out of the dustbin (read the full story HERE.) She has grown in leaps and bounds over the past six days and is a real little treasure! Over the past week I have tried several times to put her back with Mommy, who is quite keen to take her, clucking and calling, but unfortunately little Dusty has already imprinted on me and would stand there calling until I answered, when she would run her little legs off in the direction of my voice.

Imprinting is "A rapid learning process by which a newborn or very young animal establishes a behaviour pattern of recognition and attraction to another animal of its own kind or to a substitute or an object identified as the parent." When rearing a newborn animal, it is very difficult to avoid imprinting as it takes a lot of effort of not letting it hear your voice or not letting it see your hand, for example, feeding it. In the wild it is therefore always preferable to let nature take its course and not to interfere and pick up fledglings that have left the nest and landed on the floor. Normally the parents are close-by and will feed it until it is able to fly. That is how they grow strong and learn to fly.

I know predators are always a worry, but unfortunately that's how nature is. Once you "save" it (we all have that instinct), releasing it back to nature is always difficult as it has not learnt the necessary survival skills to ensure it makes it in the wild, where it will then probably perish anyway. The other alternative is then spending the rest of its life in a cage, definitely not an ideal situation.

Investigating everything on my desk

 Little Snoodles showing great interest in the seeds I offered her

Aaah, that was a nice meal!

A full tummy and feeling very sleepy...

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Roosters really do know what time it is

My rooster Artemis announcing the start of day 

Normally, at 4am like clock-work, I'm awakened by Artemis announcing the start of another day. In summer it can be as early as 3am! This sets off ALL Solly's roosters and I can assure you, NOTHING can sleep through that racket! Their crowing has now set MY internal clock and I'm normally awake just before the crowing starts.

The rooster's morning cock-a-doodle-doo is driven by an internal clock, finds new research, suggesting that male chickens really know the time of day.

The study, detailed in the journal Current Biology, found that roosters put under constant light conditions will still crow at the crack of dawn.

Past studies have found that a myriad of animal behaviors are driven by an internal clock: at night, a dip in insulin causes humans to process food more slowly, and even blind cave fish use a circadian clock to tell time.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo' symbolizes the break of dawn in many countries," said study author Takashi Yoshimura of Nagoya University, in a statement. "But it wasn't clear whether crowing is under the control of a biological clock or is simply a response to external stimuli."

Because stimuli throughout the day — such as car headlights — will set off a rooster's crow at any time, it was also possible that increasing light was the trigger for the cock's crows.

To find out Yoshimura and his colleagues put 40 roosters in a setting with constant light, then recorded when they crowed.

Sure enough, the chickens crowed at daybreak regardless of the light conditions. The roosters also crowed at other times of day and in response to light and the crows of their fellow chickens, but those behaviours were much stronger at daybreak. The findings suggest that an internal circadian clock, rather than external conditions, drive the behaviour.

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A bath and a clean nest

After Kiep's broodiness finished a couple of days ago, I decided she needed a bath after sitting on her golfball for almost a month. She looked decidedly drab and worse for the wear and needed a bit of special TLC. (I take all the eggs away from my girls, I do not want any more chickens and they all seem to be quite happy with the golf ball scanario!)

I prepared some luke warm water in a tub and put her in. At first she struggled a bit (it was her first bath ever), but the minute she felt the warmth of the water, she actually lay down! I gently shampooed her back, chest and vent area, careful not to ruffle her feathers too much. 

I remembered using vinegar as a youngster to rinse my hair after a wash when we'd run out of conditioner and it always left my hair soft and shiny. So, after a first rinse, I transferred Kiep to another tub with a bit of vinegar in the water, gave her a good rinsing, dried her gently with a towel and then used the hair dryer to get her nice and dry. I was a bit worried about the noise of the hair dryer, but she seemed to enjoy it, fluffing up her feathers to let in the hot air. 

Kiep sunning herself in the bathroom court-yard 

After she was all nice and dry, and oh so extremely soft and fluffy! we went out into the bathroom court-yard, where she spent a while preening and getting her feathers in the correct order again and when she was ready, I led her out to the main garden where she immediately rushed up to Artemis, greeting him with some wing-flapping and a lot of prancing around. 

Kiep meeting up with Artemis after her bath 

Spending some time with Artemis in the garden after a nice warm bath

Now it was time to also clean out her nest-box, which is on top of one of my art tables in my studio. I cleaned out the box thoroughly, put in fresh grass and then placed it back, all nice and clean. 

Later in the morning she strutted into my studio to deliver her breakfast, but it turned into a big to-do. She took one look at the nest and, horrified, she proceeded to unpack all the grass and then putting it back to her liking before settling down to the serious job of laying the egg! 

 Her eggs are different after this last broody incident, much bigger and not so white, more brown. My little girl is growing up now… 

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