Chicken Poop Adventures

(Pepi)

(Lucy in her broody trance)
Chicken poop adventures are a daily occurrence for me. Every time I go to collect eggs, I have to crawl under one of the roosting poles to get into the nesting coop. There is usually at least one chicken and a turkey roosting on that pole. The whole time I'm telling them "don't poop on my head, don't poop on my head". Then in the coop I have to reach down under another roosting pole with 1/2 dozen chickens sleeping on it. This is the "big girl coop". While I start the chant again, "please don't poop on my head", I'm reaching into the nesting boxes, feeling for eggs, sometimes under a sleeping chicken. Many times the first thing I grab is not the prize I'm looking for.
In the last nesting box sits Lucy, my little red Cochin bantam. Maybe there will be one or two stray eggs in another nesting box where Harriet is sleeping, but the majority of eggs are laid in one sacred bottom box. Every day the girls line up 3 to 4 deep waiting to enter this sacred box. The ruckus this causes in the coop can be heard in the house with all the doors closed. Once all the eggs have been deposited, Lucy then parks herself in this box for the night hoping to claim all the eggs for her self.
I start poking around under Lucy removing 3, 4, 5 sometimes 12 eggs from beneath this tiny bird. She gives me a little peck and a squeaky protest but falls right back to sleep, egg less. The fun begins when I start out of the coop, banging my head on the poop encrusted roosting pole, where a giant turkey is resting. The turkey gives me the stink eye for the disturbance. I curse leaving the pen knowing that my day is now complete. The birds are fed, eggs picked and the poop is in my hair again….
To top off the whole daily routine of poop in my hair, that darn Bantam rooster Pepi bounces off my butt, while I'm doing the crawl into the big girls coop, then runs like hell. As if bumping my head into the poopy roost isn't enough I have Pepi jumping me when ever he can. The results of Pepi's behavior dooms him to spend time under my arm while I'm doing my barn chores. Supposedly this will show him who is boss???? Not working yet.

What is it with me and poop?

(Mr. Quackers with Petunia, Penelope and Deililah)
I had finally tracked down Muscovy female ducks for breeding. I called one of my girlfriends and offer to pick up 3 girls for her (2 of her ducks flew off) and 3 for me, only if the farm is not to scary. So it's all arranged, I'll go pick up the birds. I find the farm very easily; you could see it from the road, which is an understatement; I'm taking another trip to Deliverance and Chainsaw Massacre all over again. I pull up to the house/shack and try to decide which set of rickety stairs to climb so I can knock on the "door". Luckily someone comes out of the door and it is the woman I talked to on the phone. I have to admit she is a very pleasant and I relaxed a bit. Slowly I look around and take in the whole "farm". OMG, it's not that bad, sort of. Whew, I'm not going to be chopped up into pieces today!
There are animals everywhere. I'm seeing Ducks, Geese, Lambs, Goats, Chickens, Guineas and I'm sure there was more I did not see. They are all over the place, some in cages/shelters/pens, some loose running wild. Everyone looks healthy but let's just say I'm lucky the ground is frozen, this calmed down the farm odor. I back up my car to this one "building" (I use that term loosely) so we can start catching us some ducks! Let me tell you these people knew what they were doing. They whipped out a huge net and headed into the "building". I of course did not go into the "building" but 6 ducks were produced from this "building". Meanwhile outside, one by one the ducks were handed off to me for loading into the cage in the back of my Volvo wagon. Yes, I now notice that the cage does not have a blanket underneath it. Oh well, It won't be that bad, right? We were done in no time at all.
All the ducks are loaded; I paid for them, now I'm off to deliver Barbs 3 ducks. Right away I notice the odor they smell like dirty farm and sheep/duck poop. That’s not too bad? Then they start pooping or squirting out poop in the cage/car. The six girls are very nervous and pooping like crazy all the way to Barbs house (30 minute ride). I arrive; it is frigid and brutal cold outside. One by one I grab the ducks out of the cage. These beasties are crazy strong, flapping and kicking. Muscovy's have claws on the end of their webbed feet that now are covered in duck poop. Barb and I decide it would be better to clip these crazy girls' wings first thing, before releasing them in her yard. I'm holding the bird, smearing poop down my coat, my pants, and gloves while Barb clips the feathers. Poop flys into my hair and all over Barb as they flap, not to mention the back of my car. Then the wind would gust the feather clippings into my car so they could stick into the poop. We clipped their wings very quickly, we say our good bye's. I take my coat and gloves off; toss them onto the floor of my car. This is one memory I'm sure Barb and I will not forget easily and yes it was still fun!
I could not wait to get home and get my poopy smeared pants off and clean up. I hit the house and Bruce meets me at the door, he needed to go to the ER in Albany. Something is very wrong with one of his eyes. We toss Dimples, Daphne and Delilah into their pen, hop into the car an off we go, poop and all to Albany Med Hospital.