What am I supposed to do...?

Learning from the Chooks

I've learnt so much over the past few years from Solly's chickens. His chooks free range all over our plot and my garden and I've seen them lay eggs, hatch their babies and then watched as they grow up into teenagers and then fully integrate into the community. Of course I have my favourites, especially the abandoned or injured ones I rescue, nurse back to health and most of the time introduce them back into the flock.

Too many roosters!

Can't actually speak about a flock - they always seem to form several flocks. Many, too many, of the newly hatched chicks turn out to be roosters. And you know what happens when there are too many roosters! As teenagers they start squaring up to test their strength and then, as they come into adulthood, the serious fighting  for the available hens starts.

The hens watch, apparently unconcerned, from the side-lines, but one can't be fooled by their disinterest. Each fight is keenly watched and they have a keen eye for spotting the winner(s), who quickly claim their prize, with the chosen hens seamlessly falling into line with their chosen mates. Each rooster then has his own flock and they tend to group together and keep away from one another's territory. My heart always breaks for the losers, who end up all lonely, hanging around the perimeter, hoping for a hen to perhaps spot them. But beware them if they try to approach a specific flock's hen, she puts up one hell of a noise, alerting her rooster, who immediately puts an end to such daring cheekiness!

Soon after, the egg-laying starts, laying an egg a day until she feels she has enough to start a family and then serious business of sitting for plus/minus 21 days starts.

Mommy with her four newly-hatched babies

While the hen has her newly hatched chicks, she stays away from the flock, leading her chicks around, showing them them the territory and where all the very best tit-bits are to be found. During that time she even ignores her chosen rooster, solely concentrating on her babies and lovingly taking care of them.

But here comes the heart-break bit. When the little chicks are only a couple of weeks old, she starts showing an interest in the rooster again, with him leading her around, pointing out some lovely possible nesting places. She then totally abandons her babies (and they are FAR too young!), spending time with the rooster and even grabbing the little tit-bits I give them for herself, even pecking them and telling them to get out of the way. Then for days I have to listen to their pitiful little cheeps as they constantly call for her in their confusion, not understanding what is going on. Fortunately this unhappiness only lasts for two weeks or so and they soon learn to fend for themselves.

The four confused little chicks all on their own in the garden

 They would hang around the garden gate and as soon as I make an appearance, would follow me all over

Then, as soon as the hen is "free" from her chicks, it's a big happening in the community. Everybody will intently watch her choice of a new nest and when the first egg is laid, everybody, including the roosters, who stand watch over the event, will noisily cackle, crow and rejoice in the event, sending the little chicks scattering in fear from all the noise. And believe me, it's a racket!

One of the hens loudly voicing her discontent that her favourite nest is occupied by someone else

The intruder sits motionless, hoping nobody will spot her!

Choice of nest for any hen is another matter of contention. They all have a favourite nest and heaven forbid if anyone else dares to occupy it! Even though there are plenty of nests around, they will stand in line for that one nest, all the while trying to intimidate the occupier with insistent, loud cackling.

Another rooster standing watch as his hen searches for a perfect nesting spot

Solly's chickens are not to be confused with MY chickens living in my garden. They all originally came from Solly's stock, but never mix with their "wild" cousins, as part of my garden is walled and keeps Solly's crowd at bay. Just a bit on Solly - he is our general mechanic and handyman, living a couple of hundred meters away from the main house, where he has got his own little vegetable patch, flower garden and chicken coop, but for some reason, most of his chickens prefer to live in my back garden, nesting wherever they feel comfortable and following me around whenever I go into the back-yard. They seem to know that I know each of them and that each of them have got their own name. Or maybe it's just that they know that they are destined for the pot at Solly's place...

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Snoodles, a chick with attitude!

Camera : Canon EOS 550D 

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

This is Snoodles, the little chick I saved from the dustbin, took her out of the egg in November 2013 and she’s been living with me in my studio. She’s getting to be a big girl now and has already joined all the other girls in the chicken coop.

As soon as Snoodles was big enough, we’d go on field trips through the garden and my wildlife pond area, where she would investigate every nook and cranny, delighting in catching the odd insect. Here she hopped on a rock, chasing after a Dragonfly.

Good luck with that Snoodles!

 Snoodles standing on my computer speaker, taking a peek at what's going on outside

Snoodles taking some time out on the edge of Jacko's chair, much to his disgust!

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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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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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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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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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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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The dustbin chicks

One of Solly’s hens (one of only 4 left after a mysterious disease killed about 20 of his chickens) hatched out six little chicks, leaving another 11 eggs un-hatched when she left the nest at about 6am. About an hour later, I saw a tiny chick stumbling from the nest, still wet from emerging from the egg. Mommy and her crew of six had already disappeared somewhere into the garden, so once again I had a little chick to tend to.

Dottie

I brought her inside and kept her warm in a basket of grass with a hot water bottle and a towel throughout the day and that night. Early the next morning I saw Mommy and her babies just outside my studio window and quickly rushed outside with Dottie (she has two little black dots on her head) and put her down in front of Mommy, who immediately clucked encouragingly and little Dottie quickly responded by running towards her and under her warm tummy.

Dottie (top right) with some of the other chicks 

Mommy and all seven babies enjoying the lawn

I kept watch for about an hour until I was satisfied that she was able to keep up with the rest of the clan, feeling relieved that it had all worked out well. Sometimes chicks imprint on me too quickly or the mother refuses to take it back, then it’s a case of looking after a little chick for many weeks before it is ready to join my girls in the garden. Over the past two days they've all grown in leaps and bounds and Mommy is an absolutely perfect mother, calling them to the food I put out and first letting them have their fill before she has anything herself.

Mommy calling the chicks for a tit-bit 

Now, here's the thing. On Tuesday afternoon we disposed of all the other eggs that were left over and threw them in the dustbin in the back yard. This morning, it's now 2 days later, as I passed the dustbin, I heard peeping! Looking inside, I saw that two chicks had hatched. I was gob-smacked! Upon closer inspection of the rest of the eggs, I noticed that one had a hole in it and heard peeping coming from within. I gathered up the two babies and the egg and rushed inside, immediately getting the two chicks onto a towel with a hot water battle. The egg was still peeping, so I carefully removed all the shell and found a perfectly formed little chick struggling to get out. I gently cleaned it and also put in on the hot water bottle with the other two chicks.

The two "dustbin chicks" with the one I took out of the egg warming up on the towel and hot water bottle

The three little "dustbin chicks" getting warmed up 

The chick in the centre (Snoodles) is the one I took out of the egg

I constantly checked the temperature inside the towel to make sure it was not too hot also often stroking the third little chick and talking to it. After about half-an-hour it raised it's little head and opened its eyes! I was thrilled! It also struggled up to stand, stretching its little legs for a second or two before settling down between the other two chicks again.

After about four hours it was dry and quite alert, moving about and taking an interest in its surroundings, snuggling close to the other two.

I'm thinking that maybe, just maybe, Mommy will accept the two older little dustbin chicks but the one I took out of the egg still has a long way to go and I doubt that it will be able to keep up with the much older chicks, so it looks like I've got a few weeks ahead of me tending to this little one.

Hens lay eggs over a period of time and sometimes those laid first, hatch first. When she left the nest, some of the other eggs might have been on the point of hatching and I think the dustbin acted like an incubator, it was standing in the morning sun with the lid on and it was quite warm inside. If she had stayed on the eggs just a day later, probably some more would have hatched.

UP-DATE Fri 29th Nov 2013 5.15am

Well, I put the first two dustbin chicks back with their Mommy this morning and she accepted them immediately. Of course they were cold and she immediately called them under her warm feathers. I will keep an eye on them today to make sure they keep up with the rest of the crowd. The third little chick which I took out of the egg is still a bit weak, maybe tomorrow...

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M.I.A. because of lost chicks

I've been 'missing-in-action' for a couple of weeks and it's all summer's fault! Everybody is broody and  Solly's chickens have been hatching babies like mad, but the heavy rains and predators have been taking their toll. One of his hens hatched six little chicks but within a few days there were only two left.
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I suspect a stray cat which I spot every now and then, skulking in the bushes and behind tyres in the workshop, but have never managed to befriend it so that I can catch it and take it to the S.P.C.A. Then, to top it all, the mother suddenly abandoned the two chicks and I found them woefully calling under one of the shrubs in the garden. I managed to catch them, fast and wild they are! and brought them inside and, to my delight, within the hour they thought I was their Mommy! I didn't expect imprinting to happen so fast as they were already almost a week old.
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Their Mommy did a good job of teaching them to eat the corn and seeds I put out for Solly's chickens every day because they immediately took to eating and drinking some water after I showed them where it was.

 

After having their fill, it was time to settle down for a quick preen and a bit of a roost.
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Then a couple of days later, another one of Solly's hens hatched five of the cutest little chicks, but by the next day there were only four left, the little black one at the bottom of the photograph being gone.

Early one morning at about 5.30am, in pouring rain, I heard the panicky calling of a little chick and upon investigating, I saw one of her little black chicks all alone in the grass outside the garden, soaking wet and close to collapse - the mother and other chicks were nowhere in sight. I rushed out into the rain, collected it and rushed back, drying it off and cupping it in my warm hand while I prepared a hot water bottle for the basket. It soon warmed up and within half-an-hour it was preening itself and looking around.

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Solly's chickens do have a coop but they are REALLY free-range with only a few of them choosing to sleep in the coop, the rest wander and nest all over our property. I normally try not to interfere with 'nature', but it's impossible for me to see a lost chick and not to rescue it...

So there you have it, taking care of little demanding chicks didn't leave me much time to get round to blogging, it's like being a young mother all over again!
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Up-date - The same day I found the little black chick, and still pouring with rain, later in the morning I saw the Mommy and her three other chicks having some seeds outside my Studio, so I rushed out, put the black baby down and she fairly attacked me, gathered the baby under her wing and then herded them all to safety under a canopy and out of the rain. Whoot whoot! Another happy ending and one less baby to take care of! To date, all four are still safe and have grown into beautiful healthy little chicks!

The first two are still in my care, having gotten used to the routine of sleeping in their basket every night and being let out into the garden in the morning, calling when they miss me and following me back to my Studio for a rest and some roosting. I've also taught them the route to the bathroom court-yard garden and every now and then they wander over there for a scratch and a sand-bath. But it's a full-time job and I'm just now catching a breather as they prefer to be in the garden scratching around with the other chickens. Seems they will be joining my girls in the coop shortly...

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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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