From Marilyn to Merlyn

When we first got into the chicken business, my husband ordered some Jubilee Orpington hatching eggs.  He ordered one dozen and we got a little Styrofoam incubator.  We were so excited to hatch our own chicks.  We waited as patiently as possible throughout the 21 day incubation period until finally it was hatch day.  Lesson number one: don't expect a high hatch rate from shipped eggs!  Our dreams were somewhat dashed when only three chicks hatched.  They were beautiful chicks - little "blond" balls of fluff.  Lesson number two: not all chicks that hatch will be healthy!  One of the cute little blond chicks kept falling over onto its back unable to right itself.  My husband tried to break it to me gently that this little chick probably would not make it.  Those of you who know me at all, know that this scenario was completely unacceptable!  No baby ANYTHING will be allowed to die peacefully or otherwise on my watch.

We keep several aquariums set up as brooders for the babies.  I went down several times a day to set this chick up right and make sure she ate and drank.  She was growing fine, but still I would find her on her back kicking her feet in the air.  I quickly decided on a name for the cute little blond thing that stayed on her back - Marilyn (after another famous blond and for obvious reasons).  Marilyn and I continued our daily ritual until she began to be on her back less and less.  My diligence had paid off!  Marilyn was quickly going from blond to growing her beautiful red mottled feathers.  I didn't bother to notice what appeared to be hackle feathers.

One day my husband came to "break the news" to me once again.  He said,"I've got some news about Marilyn!"  I immediately thought the worst, after all she had gotten off to such a rough start.  He said,"Marilyn is crowing!"  I told him that could not be - I just knew Marilyn was a hen!  NOPE - as it turned out Marilyn had grown into a big beautiful red mottled Jubilee Orpington rooster!  We could not let any self respecting rooster be named Marilyn!  That day Marilyn became Merlyn!  Merlyn was one of our favorite farm pets and gave us gorgeous chicks!  He had beautiful red hackles and saddle feathers along with the mottling that comes with Jubilee Orpingtons.

A Tale of Two Roosters

This post is as it was related to me by my husband:

The first bantams we got were a pair of Cochins, a little blue rooster and a little black hen.  They were about three months old when we got them as part of a Serama purchase my wife made.  Our goal has always been to allow our chickens to free range as much as possible and the Cochins would be no exception.  As soon as they had settled in, I began releasing them outside their coop around the barn.  Annie, the little hen, weighed in at a whopping 18 ounces and Kong, the blue rooster, weighed in at  about 22 ounces and believed, as all roosters do, that he was the "cock of the walk".  The pair were a pleasure to watch and listen to as they walked around the barn looking for anything of interest.  Annie soon learned that if she came into the barn where I was working, she would be rewarded with a handful of dried meal worms.  She would then ride around on my shoulder.  Kong was a little skeptical of this practice but eventually followed her into the barn.  He kept a safe distance and guarded their retreat as she enjoyed the treats from my hand.  It would be good to remember that a rooster does not know how small he is and will stick up for his hen(s) against all interlopers.

We had previously purchased Belgian Malines from Greenfire Farms and they were reaching maturity at about 5 months of age.  Malines are a large breed chicken with the roosters regularly reaching 12 pounds and the hens reaching 8 pounds early in their development.  Luckily, they are also known for being "gentle giants".  I had been allowing them to free range outside but in an area separate to the barn so that Kong and Annie, who by now were my favorite pets, could keep their own space.  Malines, however, are excellent free ranging chickens and over the course of several days began to navigate farther and farther around the barn until they were overlapping Kong and Annie's area.  At first there were no conflicts since the diminutive Cochins gave way to the much larger Malines.  One of the Maline roosters, named Prime, was larger than the rest and at six months weighed in at an impressive 10 pounds.

One day Annie made her usual inspection of the inside of the barn where she received her treats, but I noticed that Kong did not follow her in.  I walked to the end of the barn and peered out onto the drive and could only watch in complete fascination as little Kong squared off against Prime.  I did not have my phone with me and I am not sure that I would have had the presence of mind to film it anyway.  With hackles raised, Kong was jumping into the air as high as he could trying to flog and peck Prime.  Prime, with hackles raised, had a puzzled look and was bent down at the neck trying to figure out how to attack this tiny rooster back.  Obviously, jumping and flogging were out of the question since Kong was so short.  He seriously looked at Kong in amazement following each of Kong's jumps as if to say, "How do I jump lower to teach this guy a lesson?".  Each attempt made by Kong was futile since his highest jump was several inches short of even reaching Prime's bowed head.  There they stood for what seemed like several minutes.  Neither one could get any satisfaction from this stand off.  No one got hurt (not even their pride) since both had given it their best!  Prime eventually walked off leaving Kong to turn back toward the barn and give a triumphant crow.

We lost Kong about a year ago.  He just didn't come out of his coop one morning.  To this day I miss his calls to Annie when he would lose sight of her and his crows of assertiveness.  We still have Prime, a respectable representative of his breed.  He still is the yard boss taking on any and all challenges.  He is always a docile and protective rooster that, even at his present weight of 12 pounds, looks at our 17 month old granddaughter as an oddity to be studied.

What's in a Name?

It was my husband Willy's idea to get a few chickens.  As I have mentioned before, we are not sure how it happened, but a few turned into a few more and a few more and so on and so forth.  Before we knew it our "few" chickens had turned into almost 400 birds.  The first mature pair of chickens were given to me by my cousin.  The policy at his house was that any bird that his wife named could not be sold, traded or eaten.  This sounded like a perfectly good and reasonable plan to me as well.  That first pair became Woodrow and Charlotte.  They were soon followed by Hercules, Frizzle, Samson, Delilah, Bonnie, Clyde, Hollywood, Raven, Sassy, Leonitis, Fancy, Ginger, Goldfinger, Gladys, Bella, Kong, Annie, Maximillian, Apollo, Prince, Annabelle, Zues, Tanto, Lacy, Lexi, Lucy, Morticia, and the list goes on!

Prime

It is becoming abundantly clear just exactly what happened around here!  Our policy has evolved more towards - I name all I can and we sell the rest!  Do you have any idea how difficult it is to come up with 400 names?  Don't tell my husband, but I'll be accepting ideas for names soon!  (I've about tapped out the grand kids' name list as well).  Does anyone know where I can find a local chapter of Chickens Anonymous?

A Day on the Farm

Our mornings begin in the big cedar rocking chairs on the front porch with a fresh cup of coffee.  From this vantage point, we can watch the turkeys and chickens that Willy has already turned out to free range.  Occasionally we have the privilege of watching the deer make their morning stroll through the pasture and into the pine trees that border our farm on the west side.  It is here, in the peace of the morning, that our day takes shape.

Chores on a farm are endless but, for the most part, not unpleasant.  Many days, as we go about feeding and watering our various birds, we see chicks hatch.  It is nothing short of a miracle that in a set number of days, a chick forms within an egg.  This same chick instinctively knows it must break into the air sack of the egg and then punch a hole in the shell to get more air.  This is known as "pipping".  Once the chick accomplishes this, it can breathe and take it's time "unzipping" the shell.  It does this by carefully punching through the shell in a circle around the large end of the egg.  All the while, it is absorbing the yolk and blood supply from the egg to use as nourishment for it's first few days.  The chick will then push the shell open and break free.  The yolk it has absorbed will sustain it for two or three days if need be.  It's always like Christmas on hatch days.  With some of the breeds, we know what the chicks will look like.  For instance, the Jubilee Orpingtons will be predominately yellow to golden in color.

A Serama hen with her tiny chicks.

 However, our Serama eggs are "like a box of Chocolates, you never know what you're gonna get."  Sometimes the Serama chicks aren't any larger than the end of your thumb and it's amazing that they are even able to "pip".  We raise all sizes of chickens, from Serama (the smallest chickens in the world) to Belgian Malines (among the largest chickens).

A mama Maline and her babies.

We also get to witness the different personalities and watch their "preferred friendships" develop.  This becomes abundantly clear if a bird is separated from their "friend(s)".  They will call each other from wherever they are all day long, or until they are reunited.  Roosters will find food, and instead of eating it, they will call to their hens and let them eat first.  We frequently give the birds dried meal worms as a treat.  To a chicken, this is chicken crack!  Still the roosters will take the worm, lay it down and call to his hens.  There is absolutely nothing cuter than the "dance" chickens do as they scratch for food, or the dance of a rooster trying to impress a hen.

A Chicken Condominium

Often days are filled with building pens or free range areas for certain groups of birds, such as the turkeys or peacocks.  Our chickens live in what the neighbors fondly refer to as "chicken condominiums".  There are fans in the coops, automatic non-freezing watering systems, feeders and other "options" that take a lot of Willy's creativity and time.  He spends a lot of time caring for birds who are "under the weather" or injured as well. We have a hard time "culling" and only do so as a last resort.

A Fairy Garden

There is also much landscaping to do to make the place prettier for us and for those who visit as friends or customers.  I love old farm implements and rusty old chicken paraphernalia so these things are incorporated whenever possible.  Willy and Tristan, our youngest son, are always kind enough to build me arbors and trellises from cedar limbs gathered from our land.  Some of my gates are made from the cedar as well.

My Arbor and Gate from Cedar

Farm life is extremely demanding and extremely rewarding.  We feel so blessed to be able to witness the everyday miracles of this lifestyle.  Hopefully, many of you will have reason and opportunity to visit with us one day.  We love to share the beauty of our little farm.  However, you must keep in mind, it seems to always be a work in progress.

Oh That Smell!

Shortly after moving back to the country, we decided to get a good dog to protect the kids and the property.  At the time, we had three kids still living at home and their ages were 14, 4, and 1.  We needed a dog that could not only chase off "critters", but also protect the kids if and when needed. Our farm is about 40 acres in size and is backed by a wildlife reserve that is around 3000 acres.  It's also surrounded by large tracts of land, so we knew there would be critters!  We ended up with a male Akita pup, which we named "Gus" (after Gus from Lonesome Dove).

Gus quickly grew into a very big dog and a loyal sidekick.  Although Gus was not really serious about the protection part of his job, he LOVED to chase things, (which to critters translated as protecting us ).  He chased everything from squirrels, to deer, to raccoons and - yes- particularly skunks.  He often came home smelling faintly like a skunk.  They seemed by far his favorite thing to chase.

One morning we were stirred awake by the most horrible smell.  It was so strong, it would bring tears to your eyes and at that strength was hard to recognize.  It was a nauseating smell and it was wafting throughout the house strong enough to wake the entire household.  We realized it was in fact a skunk, but stronger than we'd ever smelled and that could only mean one thing - it was closer than they had ever been.  The kids thought the skunk had to be inside the house.  Upon inspection, Willy found that the openings leading under our pier and beam house were wide open.  We hadn't thought much about this until now.  Sometime during the early morning hours, Gus had found a skunk to chase.  Chase he did, right under the house where it unloaded all it had to offer!  This was made worse by the fact that the air ducts for the lower floor were under the house.  We had to spend the day away from home and allow the house to air out to the best of our ability.  It was days before life would be completely normal again.  However, it did not take Willy long to make doors for those openings.  Gus continued to chase things, especially skunks, but after that they could no longer cause us to have to evacuate!

Where the Deer in the Cantaloupe Play

We love living in the country and the seclusion it provides.  We are also amazed at the variety of wildlife that get up close and personal all the time.  After we had lived here for a few years, we got an Akita puppy.  Having already had an Akita, we loved the breed and it made perfect sense to get another.  We named her Sadie and she lived a long life on the farm.  As a young dog, Sadie kept the critters out of the yard, the deer and hogs out of the garden, and she was an excellent babysitter!  She would place herself between the kids and any area beyond the yard and not let them pass.  She guarded them very carefully, just as she guarded the farm.

We took up gardening and had a large garden every year for a number of years.  Each year the garden was larger and finally my husband decided to add watermelons and cantaloupes to our already large garden.  For several years, the cantaloupes and watermelons did well thanks to Sadie's vigilance.  However, as Sadie grew older, she became a little less interested in the deer being around.  The deer sensing her complacence, took full advantage.  As it happens, they loved the cantaloupe and watermelon and began to realize that we had it each year, and at the same time.  They would come and bring their family to our garden smorgasbord.

After a while, we began to notice pieces of cantaloupe and watermelon in the yard.  It seemed strange that the deer would drag them into the yard - adding insult to injury!  It was even stranger that Sadie was allowing this practice.  We began watching more carefully.  As we drove into our yard one evening, we found it full of deer and Sadie watching calmly from the porch where she was laying.  The minute she saw us, she sprang into action and chased those silly deer out of the yard.  The next morning there were pieces of cantaloupe and watermelon in our yard again.  Even stranger, Sadie was eating the fruit all the way to the rind.  It seemed she had developed a taste for the fine fruit the deer left broken in the garden - such a waste to just leave it there.  Somewhere along the line, she had realized that if she left the deer alone for just a while, they would leave her some fruit.  Sadie and the deer were in collusion!

Our garden didn't stand a chance after that.  We very often saw Sadie come walking up with a cantaloupe or piece of watermelon in her mouth.  She was fourteen when we lost her.  The farm hasn't been the same since.  However, the deer show up each year patiently waiting on us to plant their garden again.

The Farm and Murphy's Law

In the beginning, we only had a few chickens.  A church friend had given us a few Dominique chicks and a cousin gave us a pair of Phoenix chickens so I could hear the rooster crow each morning.  Everyone warned us of the critters, particularly snakes, that would visit to take advantage of our new enterprise.  However, in those first four months, we never had one incident!

 As my husband prepared for his annual mission trip to Ghana, and our son prepared for his last year at church camp, I prepared to take care of the chickens and the farm for two weeks - ALONE!  Normally as soon as I deliver my husband to the airport and my son to church camp, Murphy's law kicks in!  One year it was wild hogs in the watermelon patch, another year it was a huge dog in our garden (who refused to leave even when I fired my pistol to scare him) - but ALWAYS something!  This year would be no exception!  On my first day alone, I'd done all the chores and gotten dressed to go to dinner with our older son and his wife.  I ran down to the coop to check one last time.  I opened up the nest boxes.  It didn't register right away that the long black squiggly thing in there was - oh yeah - a SNAKE!  Knowing my own limitations, I grabbed my cell phone and called our older son!  I explained my dilemma and begged for help to which he replied,"Mom, it will take me thirty minutes to get there and I'll just stand behind you when I do."  So I began frantically calling neighbors.  No one was home yet.  Finally, I called my friend and asked her to send her husband to rescue me!  Guess what?  He was at work!  She called some friends and they were at work!  In a few minutes, she drove up and said, "I'm all you've got, but here I am."  We devised a  plan!  She would use a stick to chase the snake into the open while I stood ready to kill it (by this time I was holding a hoe)!  We were wedged in the coop door.  Great plan - NOT!  The snake moved all over the coop as if enjoying the "side show" while every attempt to kill it failed!  It then slithered back to the nest box!  I decided it wasn't getting the eggs!  I stuck the hoe into an opening with a foot of clearance and sprang into action!  The hoe bounced up and down like a jack hammer sending shock waves up and down my arms with each impact.  I don't know how much time passed, but finally my friend touched my shoulder and said, "I think you got it, Renee'."  After laughing hysterically not at what we had accomplished, but HOW, I used the hoe and pulled the snake from the coop.  That snake was at least six feet long (although I prefer to believe it was more like eight feet long).  Needless to say, I was late to dinner, but the chickens and eggs were safe!