I wasn’t really thinking I’d write again so quickly, but too much happened today to let it sit. My brain is swimming trying to sort it all out, and the best way to tackle it is to start typing. Please pardon my longer-than-normal stream of consciousness writing (I did include cute puppy pictures though!).
I started my day with a run. What better way to start getting things back to “normal” after the holiday weekend than trying to get back into a crack of dawn running routine? It was nice, and I spent much of it contemplating the morning of letting my hens out and into the wonderfully buggy yard.
It has really bothered me to have them cooped up like this. Part of having chickens for us is to be able to have the most naturally raised eggs (and eventually meat) that we can. Confining them to the coop for multiple days was justifiable for long term health of the gals (teaching them their safest place to be at night), but it just didn’t sit right with me in the here and now.
So, I was VERY happy to open that door and let them out. Jackson came down with me, and we were prepared to just hang with Atlas and the flock in no particular hurry to leave while they all got reacquainted after the time away.
The picture in my mind while running this morning was 6 hens clamoring at the door to see who would be first down the ramp (assuming that had all been sorted out – pecking order and all).
Instead, nothing.
Nobody seemed in any particular rush.
Now, mind you, the “old guard” didn’t waste too much time contemplating the open door. It did not take them long to find their way back to Bugville.
Atlas decided to start trying to make his way UP the ramp. Not a good plan. We had words.
We sat for a while. He got lots of scratches and attention while we allowed the others time to exit the coop.
Only one newbie decided to leave the coop. And then the chasing began. Atlas and I had more words. These were me, very much in his face, holding him by the scruff of his neck, and establishing “NO.”
Ok. For a while.
Then again with the chasing. Down to the corner yard, and the new bird got some serious air to the point I thought she was going out of the yard!
More words. Stronger this time. But I’m not sure it’s working. I decide to use my “phone a friend,” and give Heather (Atlas’ breeder) a call. I know she has dealt with this, and I needed some advice. She reminded me that his immature puppiness probaby just wants to get a hold of that new arrival and play with it. She gave me a recommendation to actually get him on his back for the correction instead of having him sitting. This would help establish me as the alpha.
I stayed close for a while, and we actually did school for the morning on the deck above the yard so I could observe. When I went up, though, Atlas had decided it was nap time, and all was calm. He napped a good part of the morning.
The morning went well – lots of napping by Atlas, and lots of scratching and pecking outside by the old guard and the brave newbie. The other three were content to stay in the coop.
Check out this video… Atlas is trying to extract a forked limb from the fence (and happily ignoring the scratching of the three chickens in the background, I might add :-)).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RlGXIMcR0yQ
When I checked on the crew after lunch, the brave newbie was not to be found. I was convinced she must’ve flown out the corner where I initially saw her take to the air. I hadn’t heard any commotion, but I figured Atlas must have been at the root of it. But I couldn’t do any correction because I would be WAY to late.
We searched all around the wooded area below the yard, knowing it hadn’t been too too long since I had been down just to peek in at things. Nothing.
Then, Jackson yells that he found her. She was UNDER the dog house. I looked back there, and at first was afraid she had been taken there by a certain canine, and that she wasn’t ok. All I could see was her booty sticking out from under. I hesitatingly touched her with a gentle poke and she scampered her way deeper under and managed to turn around (we’re talking maybe 3″ of clearance here!) and get out. She went straight up onto the roof of the dog house.
That works. Whew.
More monitoring through the afternoon. I checked on them several times and all seemed to be happy. We even got a second newbie chicken out of the coop at one point. I was so pleased.
We finished up our school work, and got some of the house chores done inside. We had a library book that I tried to renew and couldn’t, so we planned to leave early for karate to make a bank/library stop first. We left about 10 minutes before Jerry got home, and all was going well, so I was not concerned. He’d be able to feed Atlas and hopefully close up shop with all six ladies indoors before we got done.
But, no. That would be too easy. My phone rings while in line at the bank. It’s Jerry. “You’re chickens are out. Three in the driveway.” I guess we won’t make that library stop after all. I finish up at the bank and head straight home.
By the time I get there, he has gotten all but 1 back in and locked in the coop. The old guard are in the yard, but not in the coop.
Oh, and did I mention there was a storm imminent? As in, it is thundering, and rolling, and the sky is darkening as we are wandering the edge of the woods (with no idea WHERE this chicken headed) trying to find a mostly black chicken! Good grief!
I don’t know what to think. I feel like a terrible chicken mama. I have no idea if Atlas chased them or if they were just up on the dog house (the 2 that were out really seem to like it up there) and saw an opportunity to clear the fence more easily.
I have been so distracted this evening. Did she find herself a safe tree in which to roost? Is she near the nest of the barred owl we often hear off in the woods? Did she make it up before the coyote could catch her scent? Will she survive tonight? If she does will she come back? Will she ever get a chance to lay an egg? Will Elaine ever sell me another chicken?
Yes, I know it is “just a chicken.” But, she was my chicken. And she was going to provide breakfast and baked goods for my family. And I really don’t want to be an irresponsible chicken farmer. This doesn’t look good on my resume.
What will tomorrow bring? It’s supposed to storm again. Maybe everyone will just stay put.
