A Tale of Two Chickens

Where do I even start with these two? 

Way back when we chose our original six birds (after much research), we settled on 2 Welsummers, 3 Easter Eggers, and a Lavender Orpington. The former 5 were chosen for temperament, the type of egg they laid, and their breed heartiness. The Orpington was chosen purely to be my special "pet". 

Her name was Mrs. Rachel Lynde. 

Sadly, Mrs. Rachel died when she was very young...before ever coming to live with us. Apparently it can be common for Lavenders to have weak constitutions when they are first born.

Fast forward through Pippa's convalescence, to when it was coming time for her to rejoin the flock. She needed a buddy to be reintroduced with (FYI- you should never introduce a single chicken into a flock by themselves). - This was my chance to find another Orpington! Hurrah! I searched and searched, finally finding a local(ish) breeder of BBS English Orps. We went to look through her babies, and found one we thought might actually turn out to look like a Lav (she was only two weeks old). While visiting their farm, we saw the few Polish they had been recently dabbling in, and she told us there were a couple, including a stunning Tolbunt, she was planning to sell that didn't conform to their breeding standards. I had read a bit about the breed prior, and hers were so sweet, I quickly rationalized that I didn't have any white egg layers in my flock, aaaand one chicken instantly became two (chicken math is a real thing).

She held onto them for a few weeks for us while we were traveling abroad, and when we came to pick them up, the Lavender had a little flesh wound from the others picking on it, but this beautiful snow white chick (who ended up being a Light Splash EO) completely stole my heart in her stead. We called her Mrs. Rachel the Second. 

On the ride home apparently, these two entered into the unbreakable sisterhood of BFFs for life.

(this and the next two pics are of them playing together in the yard)

And my goodness. Never were there two chickens who were more joined at the hip! I wish I had pictures of them as babies when we first got them, but because they spent most of their time growing up in a tractor, it was really hard to snap any good ones. I have a few on my phone, but that's it. 

Rachel was so much smaller than Josephine (the Polish) at first. She would snuggle underneath her to sleep. It seemed that Rach was the brains of the operation, and Jojo would happily go along with whatever she hatched up in her gangly, comical way. They would often stroll around together, wing to wing, scoping out the place for bugs, and cautiously watching the original flock from afar.

Once Jo got a concussion and was feeling under the weather for several days. The usually very active Mrs. Rachel spent so many hours cuddled up by her side. Whenever she would get up to eat or drink, she'd often go back to the corner Joey was laying in to check on her between bites. I even saw her carry back a blade of grass to offer to her friend. Their sweetness just about killed me.

In those early days, I was trying to hold Rachel as often as I could to get her used to me (and start her "pet-status" training). Whenever I had her out, Jo would peep angrily at me until I put her back down. Once, she even tried to fly up and land in my arms beside her best buddy!

By and by, it came time for their introduction to the big girl coop. As predicted, Rachel was soon easily lowered to the bottom of the pecking order (as is common of Orpingtons...they're pushovers). The older girls picked on Josephine a good deal too - taking out some of her back feathers, and using her limited sight to their advantage. But one day Jo decided enough was enough, and she started pecking back. Usually at their feet because that's all she could see. Hahaha!

The sad part was that she also started pecking at Rachel to climb her way up the social ladder. It about broke my heart. The big girls soon accepted this bossy poof-headed chicken into their pack, and even let her think she was in charge sometimes (just to save their toes, I think). Rachie was often left alone, but still she stayed loyal to her first friend. When it came Joey's time to start laying eggs, Rachel would go into the coop with her to inspect the nesting boxes. Often they would dust bathe together - away from the rest of the group. Jo was always the first one to bed at night, and she'd call out loudly to Rachel until she came in after her.

Things have settled into a nice balance with the flock now, I think. Since we lost both head hens (Brooke and Marilla), there really isn't a clear leader in the group. Jo doesn't feel as threatened, so she spends more time with Rachel. They still go on walks together from time to time (though now Rachel is three times the size of Josephine!). They still peck for bugs in the same square inch together. But often Pringle can be found sleeping between the two of them at night, and Rachel likes to play with Tillie out in the yard some days.

Overall I'm pleased with how the four of them have adjusted to the new normal. It's a sweet, if slightly ditzy (!) flock we have now.

But I'll never forget the precious bond those two little birdies have shared from the very start.

Molting Is For the Birds

There are so many things about raising chickens I feel like nobody (books, blogs, articles, chicken keeping groups...) can fully prepare you for.

Molting is one of those things.

I mean you can read about how rough a molt is on a bird, but then when you actually see your sweet little feathered beebees explode before your very eyes, slowly becoming a sickly-emaciated-drowned-rat-zombie looking version of themselves, suddenly stop laying eggs, run from you like the plague, and start acting like super grumpy old goats... well, how can you possibly be prepared for all that?

These pictures were taken on the upswing of The Great Molt of 2018. At one point they both had zero tail feathers, and were all tuft-y and full of porcupine quills. No more fluffy butts... it looked like their backsides had been in a pillow fight! - And our girls didn't even have it that bad compared to some I've seen.

We only have two molters left in our flock: Tillie and Pringle. 

Marilla, sadly, needed to be rehomed because she was being picked on during her molt. Granted, it did looking like she was growing a pile of sticks out her back, but the others couldn't resist constantly messing with them until they were all bloody. At her new home she unexpectedly passed away. I have since read that during molting season, their bodies are under such a huge amount of stress that a change of that magnitude can be simply too much for them to handle. 

Duly noted. :'-(

Fly high sweet Marilla. You were a smart and gentle leader of our little flock, and we all miss you.

Brooke also left us after a bout of impacted crop that I worked tirelessly on trying to resolve. After a week, we thought we were through the woods, she was back to nomal - horray! Then one day, right before we were set to go on a short weekend trip, she took mysteriously ill. Our local chicken angel said she would watch her for the weekend (we couldn't leave a sick bird with our house sitter), and we weren't even sure she would pull through... She also, had just started molting. - Still touch and go at this point, she's alive, but we won't be able to take her back even if she recovers because we don't have a quarantine tractor anymore. We'll be working on that in the spring... It's something we didn't know just how much we'd need.

Annnnnnyway: back to molting.

So, everybody said birds don't molt their first year. Right. Our older girls were born the last week of January, and all of them (well, we don't know about Muriel who's living the country life now) did indeed molt. 

Josephine had a soft (juvenile?) molt about a month ago, and she's the only one still earning her keep around here: laying an egg every other day at least. Mrs. Rachel was a spring chicken, so she is still happily in full fluff, and doesn't understand what all the others are going on about.

Each girl pretty predictably stopped laying right about 2 weeks before their molt began in earnest. None of their molting patterns were the same. They all lost and gained in different places in different orders. We upped their protein to 22% (meat bird rations) to help with their feather re-growth, and give them mealworms as an occasional high-protein treat.

Just this week (almost two months in), we finally seemed to take a turn for the better. Pringle, who is usually pretty social, has been avoiding me at. all. costs. But a few days ago she started back her silly little habit of grooming me while I'm cleaning out the run, AND she started to squat again. I'm secretly hopeful that means she's thinking about laying, but I know full well she may be on sabbatical until spring. Tillie still bolts in the other direction if I so much as look at her, but she did start her molt significantly later than Pring, so she's still got a bunch of pin feathers coming in. I also caught them all enjoying a good dust bath together for the first time in weeks!! Good sign!

(Tillie's full neck and poofy cheeks pre-molt)

(and during molt)

Bedtime drama seemed to amp up during molt too, and Tillie has taken to wanting to sleep in the nesting boxes every night (chicken sleep regression?). We have to chase her out and back up to the roost several times - hoping that when she's fully back to herself, she'll stop with all that young bird nonsense. Geesh.

Hope all of that helps those of you yet to experience your first molt know some of what to expect. It's a rough season for the girls, but it's gotta end sometime, right!? Fingers crossed we're nearing the other side!

Hens of Ingleside Update | Pringle

 Oh Pring. She's a special one, that. 

For quite awhile she was one of the flightiest birds of the flock, but after a recent bout of sickness (which we pray she's over...she's back to eating on her own from the feeder and dust bathing in the dirt, YAY!) she became a much sweeter and human-friendly girl. Lots of love (and hand feeding, and crop massages, and dosing out potions and tinctures, oh, and a visit to the emergency avian vet *side-eye*) went into this girl, so we surely hope she's planning on sticking around for a long stretch yet. 

About three days out of every week I was convinced she was a roo. She was the biggest chick of the lot when we got them, liked to throw her size around, had a gruff, deep voice (which we've since learned is common in Easter Eggers), and ate incessantly, but eventually her growth slowed down and was soon eclipsed by Brooke and the twins. I think it's safe to say she's got the puffiest cheeks in the coop, and recently added a nice full beard to the ensemble (how very feminine...). Despite all that though, I've come pretty convincingly over to the hen side of the coin. I think by now (4 1/2  months) we would have had more definitive signs that Pringle was indeed male. So SHE it is.

Whenever I come into the run and sit down with them, Pring t.h.o.r.o.u.g.h.l.y. examines and pecks at my legs (weirdo). If I have a speck of dust on me, she'll find it. A dog hair? She's on it. An interesting pattern on my yoga pants, she's mesmerized! I swear, if I'm bare-legged she'll find the one hair I missed while shaving, and take care of it for me. Yup. Special.

She and Tillie (and the late Pip too...sense an EE theme here?) are the spazz-balls of the group. They love to zoom around the place like their pants are on fire, chest bump the other birds, and just generally be ridiculous. I think Brooke and the twins are constantly giving them the "Oh, grow up already!" look.

Of late, she's been increasingly interested in the nesting boxes and though Pippa and Tillie have already beat her to the punch (more on that later), I think her first egg might be just around the corner. I can't wait to see what color it will be! Fun fact: Easter Eggers are so named because unlike other breeds, they can lay blue, green, aqua, olive, brown, pink, or ivory eggs. You never know until the first one pops out, and then that will be their color for life!

And lastly, an uncanny ability of Pringle's is, apparently, photo bombing. As evidenced below.

Glad you're a fighter Pring. It wouldn't be the same around here without ya!

And we'll end with a look back at Pringle when she was a teenager (around 6 weeks old) - she's grown so much!

Hens of Ingleside Update | Brooke

Thought it was high time for an update on the hens! Lest you think it has been all sunshine and butterflies around here, let me tell you: chicken keeping is not for the faint of heart. Nosiree. 

Currently we are battling a double case of coccidiosis and worms brought on by the incessant rainfall Virginia has been experiencing. But despite all the difficulties, I'm trying to focus on the fact that we have become quite attached to these little birds with their big personalities as they have weaseled their way into our hearts and lives, and we gain so much joy from watching them scratch around and do their chicken-y things everyday. I know it sounds weird. I thought so too. Until we got chickens.

Each has their own unique set of habits and quirks, and for however long they are here with us (and I'm quickly learning that chicken mortality is a very delicate situation), I want to enjoy them to the full. Today I wanted to share with you the beauty that our Brooke has grown into!

First, let's look back at her teenage portrait around 5 or 6 weeks old: 

And now here she is today at four months - the beautiful Black Australorp that firmly but gently co-leads our flock:

She is by far our largest bird in height and weight, and I just adore how her black feathers glow a luminescent green and purple when the sun hits her:

From our observations, she and Marilla are the co-head hens around here. They keep everyone else in line, and gently lead them through their daily activities.

One of Brooke's silly quirks is that she is ALWAYS the last one up to the coop at night, and once she gets there, she takes f.o.r.e.v.e.r. to actually get up on the roost to sleep. She has to examine it from every possible angle, carefully decides whom she would like to sleep next to that night, and then has to find a space big enough for her ample girth to heave itself up onto (it's slim pickin's once she decides it's bedtime-all the other birds are long snuggled in).

She was always one of our sweetest and most docile hens. But with the advent of Pip's return (and the arrival of her hormones...we think she's getting really close to the point of lay), she has become a bit more bossy. All she has to do is glare in Pip's direction, and she sends a shiver of fear down Pip's little spine that shoots her off to the opposite end of the run. - She also regularly chases Pippa out of the coop at night (several times) before she finally gives in and lets her roost with the rest of the big girls - under duress. 

Her nickname has become "Brooke the Blob" because when Brooke naps, she is tooootally into it. Her neck completely disappears into her feathers as she spreads her wings out and melts herself onto the ground like a puddle of ink for a good hearty snooze. She scratches and pecks and eats and bathes with the best of 'em, but when it comes to napping, Brooke is the all-star.

Overall, she is still our gentle giant. She's a very good girl while being held, is easy to pick up, and loves, LOVES her treats... Always one of the first to come running to the door when she sees me from across the yard - though if I come empty handed, I can see her shoulders droop in disappointment. Ha!

You're a sweetie, Brooke! So glad we made that last-minute decision to add an Australorp to the gang!

The Hens of Ingleside

Interrupting our Lenten Words to share some pictures from a little jaunt we made up to West Virginia earlier today. Isn't this view spectacular??? I tell ya, the fresh country air was a welcome reprieve from our new found life in the city...

We had such a lovely time visiting both around the farm and around the old cast-iron wood-burning kitchen stove with our friends Tom and Deb (whom we met at our village farmer's market and routinely purchase our meat and eggs from). The particular reason for our road trip this morning was:

Getting to meet our chicks for the very first time!!!

We are beyond excited (k, maybe that's just me) to welcome these girls home in the next week or two. Jesse (&Co.) have been hard at work on the coop/run every spare moment, and we're neeeeearly there. Just a few finishing details, and then we can formally usher in the new residents:

The Hens of Ingleside.

Tom and Deb have been fostering our little chickadees so kindly for us since they hatched, and now, they're practically teenagers! HowDidThatHappenSoQuickly??? #ChickParentProblems - It was so fun to visit them and their 50 sisters today, and I even snapped a few pics of those whom (I think...they all look rather similar) will be coming home with us very soon.

 

Adventures in urban farming to be continued...