We got some snow yesterday. The girls were NOT impressed.
OMG!! The sky fell, the sky fell! BRAWWWK!
What is this stuff?
I don’t like it. I’m going back in. Let me in!
Alright, maybe it won’t hurt us.
OMG! Where did she go? Are her feet melting?
She’s getting scratch!! I want some!
And later, in the hendome, all are happy.
Winter comes to Henbogle.
Sunday we put up the hendome for the hens to have a place to roam this winter. Of course we had LOTS of supervision. We have used a hendome for a number of years, but changed our design a bit this year, making it much wider to give more floor space. We added a coupling and an extra 2.5 feet to each 10′ 
length of pvc pipe, fiving the girls a 10 foot wide run that is about 10 feet long. The blue cord in the background is the extension cord bringing power to Henbogle coop for the water heater and a simple light fixture for light and warmth.
We set up the hendome up just in time for a ferocious wind and rain storm Sunday night into this morning. We got a lot of rain, it looks like over 2 inches in the rain gauge, and wind gusts of up to 60 mph. I kept waking through 
the night on Sunday, thinking the hendome might blow away, but I was relieved to see on Monday morning it was still in place, as was my hoophouse.
We closed off one end completely, and stacked straw bales in the other end, leaving a hen-sized opening, and adding structural support to the hoops by wedging the straw bales against them. The inside has a deep layer of straw for the girls to scratch around in; the straw will make an excellent addition to the compost pile in the spring. We add a long straight branch propped on concrete blocks for a roost, and 
the dome becomes a light-filled, cozy snow-free area for winter days.
The whole process proves quite entertaining for the hens. We will put the pumpkins I grew for them and other treats in the hendome to provide entertainment during the dark days, and they will be snug and happy all winter. Lucky girls!
Claire at Whispering Acres in Iowa has a good post about commercial egg factories today.
After Monday’s mild weather, winter returned to boot me firmly in the potting bench Tuesday. Snow overnight was following by free-falling temperatures and a wind that would blow the hair right out of your follicles. BRRRR!
Nonetheless, the hens were out and about, scratching in the hendome alternately with visits to the Coop for food and water. When Dan went to close the Coop later in the day, though, he only counted 5 hens in the Coop. His heart sank, and he raced to the house to get me to help look for them in the growing dark. I shoved on my boots and ran out, heart in my throat. I was so afraid we’d lost them to a fox, or they’d gotten out and were roosting somewhere in the woods and would freeze to death overnight. (Predicted overnight temps were as low as -16°F with the wind chill.)
It was COLD, brutally cold, winds howling. We saw hen tracks in the snow along the garden fence, then another set leading into the garden (we removed the gate for the winter) but the tracks did not lead out. There were no signs of a struggle, no feathers, or worse yet, blood. Then, Dan realized the tracks disappeared right by Henbogle Coop. He looked under, and there they were, Lily and Lucy, huddled together under the Coop. We shooed them out (they were not happy to be shooed) and after checking for frostbite, got them into Henbogle Coop to join their sisters and warm up. We left the lamp on for extra warmth, closed them up, and thanked our lucky stars.
We determined they must have flown out of the pen looking for more of that delicious grass from Monday, then didn’t have enough sense to fly back in. We were lucky they found the Coop to provide shelter. We checked them over this morning, and thankfully, saw no signs of frostbite. Lucy and Lily both got their wings clipped to prevent any future flights of fancy.
Now, we just have to make a plan for taking care of the girls during a big three-day storm, if it materializes (please no!), with forecasts calling for between 24-48 inches of snow between Friday night and Monday.
A rooster? I’m beginning the think the crow I heard two weeks ago was an anomaly. For the next week, I dutifully took my digital camera with me every morning when I let the girls out for the day. Nothing. Not even a raucous “braawwk!” just a whole lot of flapping and fluffing and racing around after a night in the coop. Now, 14 days later, and still no sign of crowing.
I’m beginning to think that one morning there was a little surge of male hormones, but the female hormones kicked in later. In other words, I’m think we have all hens. I hope I am correct in this!
Not a good start to the day at Henbogle. One of our Americauna pullets crowed this morning. Apparently S/He is an Americauna cockerel. Anyone need a beautiful brown rooster?
We lost one of our Black Star pullets to a raccoon this week. Although it could have been a skunk, I suspect it was a ‘coon, as I was also saddened to discover it looks like a ‘coon got to the nest box full of finches, and I don’t think the skunk could have reached them. The finch parents have been busily feeding them and chittering at us if we get too close, and the baby birds have gotten louder and louder. We’ve been waiting for them to fledge, but then, one morning we could not hear them. Tuesday, Dan checked the box, which looked as though it had been messed with, and there were no birds inside. All gone. Sigh.
To avoid troubles with predators, we carefully built a very secure coop, fenced in a large area for the girls to scratch about in, and are sure to keep all their food securely stored in our barn in metal garbage cans. But last Saturday evening we got home after dark, went back to close the coop door, and discovered one of the girls had been dragged over the fence.
The next night, we baited our trap and set it out. In the morning, we discovered a skunk. The next day, we caught a very unhappy raccoon, and another was in the trap Tuesday, and a third today. The second two coons appeared young, and the first coon behaved much more agressively, so I’m hoping it was the mother but I’m not an expert. All four animals have been sent to a better zipcode. It is one of the difficult choices you have to make when you decide to become responsible for livestock.
Don’t be fooled bu the bright eyes and cute mask, racoons are determined predators, distantly related to bears. If you could have seen coon number one trying to bite me through the trap you’d begin to understand what a problems these animals can be. We will bait our trap one more time, in case another coon comes looking for a chicken dinner. We’ve made sure to be here at dusk to close the girls up tight for the night and will continue to do so, and when we can’t, we will ask a neighbor pal to do so for us.
The new chicks got to venture outside today (since for a moment the rain had stopped). Dan and I made a small, well protected pen for them while they acclimate to outdoor living.
Tonight, we moved the chicks to spacious new digs. Appliance House is a lovely row house of renovated dryer boxes obtained from a local appliance dealer. We taped two boxes together to ensure lots of room for running, wing flapping, flight practice, occasional lift-off, and their new jungle gym/roost.
The move comes just in time. When Dan arrived home from school today, Loretta (seen here with Dan) had escaped her old apartment, and was looking wistfully at the grain bag nearby. We don’t know how she escaped, but we were pretty sure she told her sisters. Get back, Loretta. Get back to where you once belonged.
|
