The Ugly Chickling

The Ugly Chickling
When we ordered our first batch of "meat birds" I forgot to check off a box on the order form so the supplier would not send a free bird. Some places include extra birds of the same variety that you have ordered, in case there is an accidental "loss" during shipment. Other places send any old free male bird they have to cover their butts and find homes for the extra male peeps. My order arrived, 25 of the most adorable, yellow fuzzy peeps and a chipmunk. Okay it wasn't a chipmunk but it sure looked like one with a beak. It was half the size of the other peeps and twice as fast. We started calling it Freebird, wondering what the heck it was going to grow into.
Freebird would hang out with his peeps, sleeping in between or on top of them to keep nice toasty warm. The other birds grew much faster, filling out nice and plump. After all they were meant to be used for a different purpose, food. The day finally came; all of Freebird's friends had to go to the Salon. Here was this gangly half naked long legged, funny colored bird with one bent toe, all alone now. He was only 8 weeks old but his feathers didn't seem to have grown properly to completely cover his out of proportion chicken body. I figure what could I do, he will adjust to hanging with the big birds easily enough. So that was it, he was in the big bird pen with all full grown chickens.
Free's first day was pretty rough, he kept chirping, looking for his friends, avoiding all the other chickens. He was endlessly running around the pen chirping. The next day while I was cleaning the pen, I noticed he was falling asleep on his feet. Then he would awaken, jump up and start chirping. I bent over the poor little thing to see if something was wrong. Free leaped into my arms, snuggled down against my stomach and went promptly to sleep. What do I do now? There are tons of chores to be done and I have a bird sleeping in my hands. This is very odd behavior for any chicken but Freebird isn't just any old chicken.
Slowly I finished a few of my chores with this strange looking bird tucked into my coat, sleeping. When he finally woke up I did attempt to place him back on the floor of the pen. This created a ruckus, Free screeched running after me, beating him self against the chicken wire to reach me. I opened up the door he ran to me leaping at high chicken speed into my hands, again. Now I really have a new friend. I do what any other sane person would do. Go get the bird condo out of the barn, set it up on my dinning room table and deposit this gangly youngster into it. Freebird could not seem to settle down in his new surroundings. He had fresh wood chips, feed and water. Then I thought he was used to being surrounded by fat fluffy birds, sleeping in between or on them. So over to the rag bag I go and picked out a few old towels. Free now had a nice soft padded bed to rest on in the corner of his condo. This did the trick he went over, flopped down on his bed and fell fast asleep. When Chickens are young they just flop anywhere and fall asleep, as they mature they will learn to roost. This flopping bird thing can be pretty scary when you get your first batch of birds. My first experience put me in a panic, OMG a box full of dead birds, until they woke up at the sound of my screams.
Freebird's nap lasted until about dinner time then he started calling for his friends which are now very long gone. I take out another old rag towel and pick up Free to see if he will calm down a bit. The little ugly monkey happily sat in my arms snuggling into his towel and spent the evening watching TV with us. Now I'm tired, wanting to go to bed myself but what can I do with this lost little urchin? Carefully I tuck the sleepy head on his bed and put a towel over him. The towel wiggles, gives a few squawks and Free goes out cold to sleep or so I thought. As I'm leaving the room the blanked starts to pop up and down, twittering. Quietly I sneak back over tuck the towel under the edges of his bed, gently pad him down. This time it works, off to bed I go.
In the morning it was pretty cold in the house, we keep the heat low. Bruce goes downstairs first to get ready for work. He goes through the dinning room where Freebird is parked but there is no sign of Free in his cage. Of course Bruce just ignores this fact and gets ready for work. Later when he wakes me up, I ask about Free, he calmly tells me he didn't see any bird. I panic, run downstairs and start calling around for Free. That’s when the pile of towels in the corner of the cage chirp back at me with a little bob up and down. Finally out pops a head, more chirps but that’s it. Somebody is no dummy, realizing it is cold and would not come out from under his covers! We keep the house at about 50 or 55 until we can not take it any more. Obviously the bird didn't like it either.
We do our chores, toss feed and treats into Free's condo and off we go to work. He is safe in his cage, alone all day but safe and warm (sort of). I did worry all day about him being all alone in that cage until we finally arrived home. There was Free, hopping around his condo, chirping happily away to Herman who was lounging up against Free's condo. This would be the daily routine for most of the time Free spent inside growing feathers while we were at work.
In the evenings we started letting Free have run of the house with the dogs and cats. Yes it sounds crazy, that about sums it up. He would follow me everywhere, if I was out of sight there would be a loud screech. I would call out to him and he would come running to me with those large gangly feet slapping on the wood floors. You would have thought he was an ostrich hunting me down. Slap, slap, slap Screech, Slap, Slap, Slap, with four dogs and a cat joining him.
In the evenings the dogs' line up for their daily salad or veggie treats, while I'm making dinner. Now there was one extra in the line up waiting for his tiny tidbit of tomato or lettuce to be tossed to him. This would absolutely vex Pumpkin to no end. To her it was bad enough to share a throw rug or the dog bed with the featherless thing but now treats. Every chance Free had, he would snuggle up to a dog for a nice nap. Every now and then Free would try to groom the dogs, that went over like a ton of chicken poop. Sharp beak, shiny puppy eyes and floppy ears, not such a good combination but the dogs tolerated Free pretty well.
The best part was after dinner, I would get Freebird's towel, and he would hop up into my arms. Maddie would be in my lap, Pumpkin at my feet, Max squished in the chair next to me and Free on my shoulder or chest, sleeping with his beak in my ear. This routine went on for about two weeks during which Free slowly grew more feathers. I would open up the back door every now and then giving him the choice to run outside and play for a while, knowing one day he would join the flock.
That’s exactly what Freebird did. One day over the weekend, he went out to play, ran to the barn and it was much less scary to him. He was a bird, not a dog, cat or human and all those other creatures out there were just like him. He chose to stay in the barn. Though when ever I was outside doing chores Free would follow me around happily chirping, begging for neck and chin rubs. Slowly he grew into a big (very) boy bird who now "tolerates" me giving him hugs and chin rubs. He will still return the grooming, giving me kisses every now and then if I'm lucky. As you can see Freebird has grown into a incredibly beautiful rooster.

Lola and Zelda update

Lola and Zelda have been living happily on our sun porch in a chick condo. Lola has filled out into a beautiful red almost Frizzle chick. Zelda at this time is molting (shedding old feathers and growing new ones) and happily laying an egg a day. Every now and then Lola pops out a tiny egg also. Those two crazy girls are very happy, warm and tame living there. When the weather permits, they get to go outside for play time to stretch their little legs.
Little Lola is still the smart and careful one. When the other chickens come over to investigate them, she leads Zelda thru the picket fence where no one can pick on them. Whenever I’m outside those two follow me every where, they know that they can just hide behind me if one of the other hens or roosters come around. Since they have not been out in the barn for 3 months the other birds see them as outsiders, they need to slowly re-establish a "pecking order". While Lola and Zelda are out playing, I can call to them and they come running to me doing that funny little chicken trot. In the evening after a day of playing outside, I call out to them, scoop the girls up and back to their condo they go.
Lola and Zelda's condo has a nesting box and lots of room to roam around. We never close their condo door and those good girls rarely venture out. They have a play area but spend most of their time inside in their condo. In the mornings if I'm late to tell them "good morning" they will start calling out, impatiently waiting for their breakfast. Every now and then they have a visitor, Maddie or Herman. Maddie likes to climb into their condo for a visit and Herman will sit next to it. Lola and Zelda where raised around the cats so they are just part of the family to Maddie and Herman.
We never thought these little special girls would become such a big part of our life and routine. They will always need extra care, warmth, love and protection. Their special care is a small price to pay for all the joy they bring to our household.

I said dead not ten

Usually all my stupid stories usually involve the birds. But this time it's about my loving 19 year dog Bailey and my cat Tom Tom who was a hit and run victim. Don't bail out; this is not a sob story.
I register all the cats and dogs with Petsmarts website for gift cards and coupons. One day I received two Petsmart birthday gift cards in the mail. The one gift card was for Tom Tom my tailless cat. He had a tail but lost it in a squirrel fight. Or I should say it fell off in the vet's office after the fight. He was the coolest cat on the planet. The other Petsmart birthday gift card is for our lab mix Bailey who just turned 19 on 02/07/10. Bailey is a "Buck midnight special"; anyone from Athens NY will know what that is. Our friend Ding had a dog called Buck, you can figure out the rest. Bailey is mostly deaf, a little crazy and missing his tail also. He is a wonderful dog.
I take my two coupons and off I go to Petsmart for food and supplies. At the register there is a young 6 foot tall girl waiting on customers. I've seen her working here before and I know she is not the brightest puppy in the litter. We start chatting and along came the manager who is about 5'2'' and high on life. He starts rambling about how happy he is that I'm shopping at Petsmart and chose his store. Meanwhile I hand the coupons to the young lady working the register. She is very sweet but a totally blank look comes over her face. She then turns to Mr. Happy Manager to ask how to use the special Birthday coupons. Mr. Happy bounces over looks at the coupons and tells her to process them like any other coupon. He then proceeds to congratulate me on the birthday of my cat Tom Tom.
I stop for a second and think. Then I slowly say "well as a matter of fact, the cat is dead". The register girl gives me a sympathetic look; I tell her that it's okay. Mr. Happy pants manager bounces off to another register. Then I notice in line behind me there is a co-worker who tells me how sorry he is about my loss. I didn't notice that the Manager had bounced back to the register that I was at. He proceeds to ask me "How old is your cat?" I'm a little puzzled at this and respond with "He's Dead". With a big smile on his face Mr. Manager's response is "Oh that’s great!" With that the young 6 foot tall girl operating the register leans over to the 5' 2" manager and yells "Dead, She said Dead, Dead, the cat is Dead".
Now my co-worker is giggling behind me, I'm trying to suppress my smile. Mr. Happy pants manager said "Oh I thought she said ten". This starts up the register girl again yelling "NO she said Dead, not ten, Dead, it's Dead". By this point I'm laughing, trying to tell him its okay, the girl is yelling dead at him, he runs away, disappearing into the isles of Petsmart.

The Goslings are growing!

I can't believe how much they have grown over night. They are very friendly and comical trying to nibble on everything.

Barn Mayhem

When we had extremely frigid cold days I thought it would be nice to open up the barn for the birds to move around. Mayhem ensued. For some reason the Muscovy ducks head straight over to an old metal cabinet painted white. I'm sure this old thing was painted 50 or 75 years ago. The paint is flaking off like crazy where one section was exposed to water. According to my ducks, this paint is the tastiest treat on the planet. Every time I turn around, I catch them licking, nibbling EATING the paint off the cabinet and the floor. Of course I shooed them away a few 5 or 6 times.
Then I see Cecil my male turkey attempting to come down the barn stairs. He was only a few steps up but this was obviously something a turkey was not designed to do. That's when I notice Clover his hen is missing. Okay this puts me into a panic, my only breeding female turkey. Pumpkin licked the other one to death last September. I'm counting, relying on Clover to produce fertile eggs in spring.
Clover has gone all the way upstairs in the barn, which is filled with crap that a turkey could get tangled in. Not to mention the stair problem. I have now spent so much time attempting to detour the ducks from their paint fetish, Clover's egg induced wanderlust has escaped me. Upstairs, chirping, Clover was happily searching for a secret spot to nest. Yes it's a little early but every girl likes to be prepared. Slowly I herd her to a safe place to make the grab. There can be no mistakes everything is riding on this bird. Luckily she is also very tame. I dove, quickly snatched her up, Clover and I are face to face, her feet dangling down to my knees, happily she chirps at me. Making sure I had a firm but gentle grip on Clover we headed down the stairs where I deposited the wayward girl outside the barn.
Slowly I turn around to assess the barn; the ducks are back licking paint. This is it, all ducks out, and I don't care. I know that ducks will eat anything but this is just stupid. I'm herding the ducks back into the animal side of the barn and I notice Clover is making another run for the stairs… Quickly I distract her from her mission and BLOCK the stairs. A large metal garbage can is installed in Cecil and Clovers living area to hopefully entice her into doing her egg thing there. The can is not working so far but the chickens love playing in it, Clover sneaks upstairs daily, the ducks are banned from the barn for ever.

We have eight Goslings

It is very hard to get a good picture under the heat lamps

Of course my faithful assistant helped me the whole time.

Once you go quack, you never go back.

Mr. Quackers is our huge black Muscovy duck. He is a sight you have to see in person so realize how impressive he is. Muscovy's are a very strong, hardy breed of duck that can fly even though they are massive with clawed feet. Mr. Quackers has five girls (hens) to keep himself "busy", which is a sight that you do not want to ever see. As if that isn't enough he has decided to follow Clover, our Bourbon Red turkey hen everywhere in his spare romance time.
Clover is a beautiful, gentle brown eyed, long legged beauty. Maybe it's the legs that got to him or the way she struts; he is driven to have her. Now here is the problem, you try to move, dissuade, relocate, and distract a big freaky duck in love. I've been mauled by a dog, faced a rabid animal (did the shots), grew up "playing" with cows that had giant horns (we lived in the country, they were my friends) handling a duck should be easy.
I'm in the barn, Mr. Quackers has clover cornered, and he's doing his love dance. Head bobbing, tail wagging, whispering sweet ducky quacks to her ankles. Now you also have to realize the whole time, in the background there are two giant male turkeys going crazy. They see Quackers as a threat to Clover and are determined to protect her. So while I'm trying to catch Mr. Q, the two stupid boy turkeys are in full regalia, feathers spread, thumping their chests and stomping their feet. Clover is just standing there blinking her big brown eyes with that "who me" look, pheromones, what pheromones?
I dive and snatch, get Quackers by the neck and one wing, sort of. Then I attempt to reposition my hands around his neck (gently) sliding both hands down to grab him by the top of his wings. Pressing them down, clamping his wings to his body I then pick him up. Now, even the boy turkeys give me what the heck are you crazy look watch me intently. I've got him for maybe one second, out comes one wing flapping free from my arms, whacking me in the face repeatedly. I get the wing; hang on and out pops the other wing. So now I'm holding him at my chest level, by the top of his wings. He is flying while I'm holding him. I'm not letting go, he's not giving up. This is my breeding drake, I'm thinking be gentle... yeah right. Some how I get the wings back down, mid air and clamp him to my chest. That's when I realize we are face to face, so close I can look thru his nostrils and see the other side of the room. Mr. Q. must have seen the determination/fear in my eyes and he relaxed. Then I was able to carry him out of the barn. I have to give Mr. Quackers credit, he at least didn't bite my nose off or take an eye out.
Mr. Q repeated the wooing of Clover for days. I repeated my duck removal process about 5 times a day for days. Oddly Mr. Quackers and I have become very close, we have now reached some form of understanding. I just point to the door; he then exits the barn gracefully. Waits until I'm out of sight and sneaks back in.