A melt-down and a broken heart

I've had a melt-down. And I've got a broken heart. And so have my girls.

First, the melt-down. My girls have absolutely ruined my garden! In about two years they've reduced it to a barren landscape with all but a few of the hardiest plants gone. GONE! My prized Echeverias, which I started with just a few plants given to me by my dad shortly before he passed away in 1990, and which had grown into beautiful specimens which I had in various parts of the garden, are all but annihilated.

The same area as above before the girls arrived.

I've managed to rescue a few of my Echeverias and planted them in a basket and placed them in my bathroom court-yard garden. Hopefully they will recover to their previous glory.

Where there used to be a thick carpet of ground covers, now there's only dead leaves and a big mess. Not that Missy minds, she's quite happy to relax there with Artemis close-by, blissfully unaware of my melt-down.

Kiep takes time out on the rock just behind Missy.

Now for the broken heart part. I'm broken-hearted because I've banned the girls from the garden. Locked up in the chicken run. No more chickens happily doing what chickens do, scratching and foraging in the garden. Having gorgeous sand baths, chasing after grasshoppers and other bugs. One thing I must say, my garden is totally bug-free - no cut-worm, no fruit beetles, no plant lice. In fact, no anything. But I'm not so sure that's entirely a good thing either. I haven't seen a lady bug or a praying mantis for absolute ages. My lizard and frog population has also suffered tremendously. NOTHING is safe from these bug-devouring lovelies!

"Why, oh WHY can't we come out?!" In stead of scouring the grass for insects, the girls would spend hours at the gait, waiting for me to open up.

ChiChi and Snooky, who grew up in my studio, are totally puzzled with this new development. They've never been locked up and cannot understand what's going on.

A couple of months ago, I did start some landscaping inside the run and I presume that, shortly, there will also be nothing left of this.

Now, as I see the matter, I have three or four choices. One is that the girls stay locked up in the run forever. FOREVER! Or I can reduce the population and only keep three or four (that's not likely to happen!). Another option is that I adapt the garden to suit the girls - no beautiful, colourful borders, no tender Echeverias and give up my love for insects and all the other garden visitors.

Hmmmmmm... Decisions, decisions....

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Mr. Chook (and Doris)

W&N watercolour on DalerRowney 220gsm (135lb) Smooth heavy-weight sketching paper 

This is Mr. Chook, my other rooster (besides Artemis) and he’s a Silky x Bantam, and almost twice Artemis’s size. But he runs like the wind if Artemis should even just look in his direction! Out of my 8 hens, he’s got three that dare to defy Artemis and hang out with him – Doris, Babs and Ginger. They’re actually very brave, because besides incurring Artemis’s wrath, Chook is rather large and almost squashes them while “having his way with them”!

CHOOK AND DORIS PLANNING AN ESCAPE :

Chook: You know what the problem is? The fences aren’t just round the farm. They’re up here, in your head. There’s a better place out there, somewhere beyond that hill, and it has wide open places, and lots of trees… and grass. Can you imagine that? Cool, green grass. 

Doris: Who feeds us? 

Chook: We feed ourselves. 

Doris: Where’s the farm? 

Chook: There IS no farm! 

Doris: Then, where does the farmer live? 

Chook: There is no farmer, Doris. 

Doris: Is he on holiday? 

Chook: He isn’t anywhere! Don’t you get it? There’s no morning head count, no farmers, no dogs and coops and keys, and no Artemis and fences!

Doris: In all my life I’ve never heard such a fantastic… load of tripe!

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An ode to Artemis

I'm not in a good place at the moment. Thursday (3rd September 2015) was a bad day for me. I had to have my prize rooster and the love of my girls' life euthanised because he broke his leg during a fight with Peeps, the other rooster in the flock.

Now we all know it's not a good idea to have two roosters together, but I did not know Peeps was a rooster when I rescued him from certain death as a two-day old. He grew up in my studio with Snoodles and when they were both big enough to join the flock, they went outside. Of course Artemis tolerated the youngster, but always letting him understand who's actually King of the roost. And Peeps always obliged, keeping his distance and staying out of harm's way.

Artemis surveying his dominion from his favourite perch, keeping an eye on the girls

But as time progressed and Peeps got bigger and stronger, he wasn't so keen any more to give way and every now and then he would challenge the king, but always ended up retreating to a safe corner.

Artemis has seen it all, been there, done that, sending other rivals packing in great haste. During one such altercation with a previous rooster, Mr. Chook, for whom I had to find a new home because of the constant fighting, Artemis's top part of his beak was broken almost completely off, just hanging by a thread. I glued it back on with some plastic putty and luckily it took and grew back on, the plastic putty dropping off after a few weeks.

Injuries sustained with an earlier altercation with Peeps

Soon he was a good as new and ruling the roost once again with an iron claw.

Artemis was an excellent husband and provider, always finding the best tit-bits and passing them on to one of the girls. Here Hetty came rushing after he found a nice juicy cutworm in the compost heap.

Artemis strutting his stuff on the patio

Artemis surrounded by some of the girls after he called them for a tasty snack he had found

Artemis in full glorious colour after a successful molt

Beauty in motion

Artemis taking one of his few well-deserved breaks after all the girls had settled down for a snooze under the plants

Artemis was also the inspiration for many a sketch I made of him and the girls, who can resist such beauty?

Artemis with his broken leg

After hearing quite a raucous outside one afternoon, the girls cackling and screaming, I went out to see what's happening and everybody was clustered in the centre of the lawn (including Peeps), but Artemis was nowhere to be seen. After a search, I found him under some plants, lying down with his leg at a terrible angle and his comb and neck feathers covered in blood. Obviously there had been a fight, as Peeps was also covered in blood.

I carefully picked Artemis up, hurrying inside with him to assess the damage. After cleaning off all the blood, he seemed perfectly fine, apart from his loosely dangling leg. There was no external damage, but I decided to take him to the vet anyway for an examination. The prognosis was not good and all he could do was give some pain killers and an anti-inflammatory.

For two weeks I kept a close eye on Artemis, despairing at the fact that he could hardly get to the food or water, struggling along, hopping short distances on his one leg and supporting himself with his left wing, tiring quickly and lying down again. During this time, he and the girls were kept in the run with Peeps being banished to a separate coop until Artemis was better.

By last week Thursday, after almost 3 weeks, there was absolutely no improvement and I could feel that he had lost weight. Off to the vet again. It was abvious I had two choices - either have him put down or carry on trying. I contemplated the consequences, both for him and me, if I should go that route of trying, and although my heart was screaming "keep on trying! keep on trying!", I decided that it was not fair to Artemis and that it was better to have him put to sleep. 

I held him in my arms as the vet administered the injection and cried and cried as he flapped his last death throes.

Peeps has now taken over the perch from which to keep an eye on the girls and is trying his best to meet the high standards Artemis set, taking little snacks from me and now calling the girls to come and get it in stead of gobbling it up himself like previously.

And so goes the cycle of life on a smallholding...

A loving moment - Kiep, Artemis's favourite wife, gently preening his wounds after a fight with Mr. Chook

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The dispute

This is Artemis, still suffering from the aftermath of a fight with Mr. Chook, my other rooster. These two have been at loggerheads for a long time now, with Chook always being the underdog and taking flight whenever Artemis came near. A couple of days ago, Chook decided ‘enough is enough!’ and turned and faced his aggressor with dire results.

Both suffered extensive injuries (they both have extremely long and dangerous spurs) and it ended up with Chook pinning Artemis, totally exhausted, flat on the ground and not letting go of his grip. We had to separate the two and Chook is currently in the ‘holding pen’ with me deciding the fate of the two – one has to go and it’s a difficult decision I’m not able to make easily. Chook is the friendliest of the two, coming right up to me and begging for a tit-bit, following me around to see if I have more, and Artemis is the beautiful ladies’ man, preferred above Chook by all the hens, who adore and follow him everywhere, succumbing to his every whim.

Artemis and Chook wanting to continue the territorial dispute...

Chook keeping a watchful eye open for Artemis...

What to do...?

Canon EOS 550 D – Sigma 70-300 Zoom lens – 9’ manual focus
Location : Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa

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Artemis surveying his domain

Camera : Canon EOS 550D
Taken in my garden (Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa)

Artemis on his favourite perch, a dried out stump, from where he can keep a watchful eye on all the girls. Nothing escapes his attention, especially if Peeps gets to close to any of the ladies. His wrath is unparalleled, flying down in fury, at which stage Peeps makes sure he is not nearby, taking refuge behind some shrubs. But young Peeps is growing up fast and I’m dreading the day when he will no longer flee and turn to face Artemis head on. That’s inevitable, as two roosters with only five girls is looking for trouble.

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Kiep and her red bandanna

Kiep, wearing her red bandanna around her neck, ready to deliver this morning's breakfast. Her nest is in my studio, on one of my art tables. She grew up here in my studio since I rescued her as a day-old three and a half years ago after being abandoned by her mother. She now spends her days outside with all the other chickens, but daily, without fail, she returns to her nest to lay her egg and spend some time sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk, chatting to me. 

Camera : Canon EOS 550D

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