Discovering A Hidden Nest

 

Tricia texted me this morning as I was driving to my first stop.  For safety, I pressed the button and the vehicle will read the text to you.  The text read as follows:

"So I don't forget to tell you, there is a next full of eggs in the goat barn.  I know what chicken it is.  It's the Aracauna hen that used to be in the chicken tractor - the black and white one that used to get into the garden."

Let me back up and explain the context of this text.  Our goat barn is just to the east of our milking barn.  The photo above shows the hidden nest my wife found right in the corner and yes, they are blue eggs, which are indicative of Aracaunas.  You can also see in that photo the large cracks in the earth from our drought.

As we move toward shorter days, the egg production from the hens drops off pretty significantly.  This hidden nest accounts for some of the reduction in eggs we pick up.  There's a story behind the Aracauna.  That bird along with one other earned the nickname: "the bad little hens."  They are smaller hens than the Barred Rocks, Rhode Island Reds, and Golden Comets.  As a result, they were able to shimmy between the 4x4 fence holes and get into the garden.  They scratched up plants in the garden earning my wrath.  I caught them with a net and kept them in the chicken tractor until I had time to line the entire garden with smaller mesh.  Those two bad little hens cost me a lot of time, but they don't get into the garden anymore.  

One of them found a new way to cause trouble, though.  Rather than laying her eggs in the nesting boxes in the hen house, she found a quiet spot to hide her eggs.  Tricia found them today, but no telling how old they are.  We could test them by putting them in a bucket of water.  If they float, they are bad.  If they sink and stay on the bottom, they are good.  I think we'll test them and go ahead and give them to Belle to enjoy.  She likes it when we break an egg over her dog food.  

Fortunately, Tricia discovered the hidden nest.  I'll remember to check in the corner of the goat barn for eggs each day.  Sometimes, it's like an easter egg hunt.

Solitary Confinement

This is a mean little Aracuna hen that finds herself (once again) in solitary confinement.  There was a time when she earned her freedom.  Five months ago, she roamed the pasture and enjoyed the freedom of a free range bird.  Then, she betrayed that confidence and began to shimmy through the 4x4 wires of the perimeter fence in the garden.  That citation earned the perp hard time in the chicken tractor months ago, prior to getting the meat birds.  You can see the remnants of their feathers on the ground below.

When the meat birds arrived, she was put on parole, and put back in general population.

All went well - for a time.  And then, I found her in the garden... twice.  She was scratching at the dirt around the onion plants.  She was making quite a mess.  I caught her and through her back out over the fence and into the pasture.  Faster than you can say, "I'd like a spicy chicken sandwich" at Popeye's, she was back in the garden wreaking havoc and causing mayhem.  

She had proved that she was one of those recidivists, who, despite being given a second (and third) chance, could not handle freedom.  She's back in the slammer.

Until you learn your lesson, jailbird, you'll remain at Heartbreak Hotel.

A True Free Range Hen (A Lot More Free Ranging Than We'd Like)

And He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation.  Acts 17:26

On Saturday mornings I like to walk around the yard and just observe things.  Usually on weekdays when I leave, it is still dark so I don't get to take in the sights and enjoy God's creation.  Saturday and Sunday mornings are a treat in that regard.

I guess you could call me a "home body."  Don't get me wrong, I enjoy traveling and seeing different places, but it is always nice to get back home.  Home is a safe place - a familiar place.  While walking in the backyard I was able to catch a glimpse of a creature that has no inhibitions about leaving home.  The Bible Verse quoted above talks about everything having boundaries of their habitation.  I present to you a hen that scoffs at boundaries.

She refuses to stay in her allotted space, preferring instead to blaze her own trail, engage in risky activity and defy her human caretakers.

This hen is an Aracauna.  This breed is a wilder breed than the others and interestingly lays blue and green eggs.  These birds are the most difficult we have.  We cannot keep this black hen within the perimeter of the pasture fence.  There is another Aracauna hen, a white one, that we call the "barn owl" because she roosts in the rafters of the barn.  We haven't had much success keeping the white out of the barn or the black one in her pasture.

The black one struts around and scratches through the flower beds.  She also scratches all the mulch out from under the blueberry bushes, exposing the roots.  It annoys me to no end.  I have to go rake the mulch back around the bushes so the roots don't dry out.

She causes me some extra work.  When I see her she runs wildly.  When I finally corner her, she squeezes through the space in the hogwire fence and gets back in the pasture with the other, well-behaved birds.  Then she looks at me over her shoulder and sneers at me in defiance.  Keep it up, hen, and you'll end up in a gumbo!

Lessons Learned from a Dead Rooster

Well that's just crazy now, huh?  How can a rooster teach a lesson, let alone a dead one?  Well, that's a story that needs tellin', now doesn't it?  I can remember being a young boy watching cartoons and seeing Foghorn Leghorn teaching lessons to the old dog, Egghead Jr., and Henery Hawk.  "B-b-Boy, I say, Boy!"  Sure roosters can teach lessons and now that I'm older, I learned a lesson or two from a real rooster, not a cartoon one.

Image Credit

We've got a number of roosters running around in the pasture.  They are needed in order to ensure that you have fertilized eggs in the event that you want to hatch out any eggs.  The correct ratio of roosters for hens is 1:10.  You need roughly one rooster for every 10 hens in the flock.  We have that ratio and the roosters run around and do their thing.

Roosters can be very aggressive creatures and, as we've learned, there is indeed a pecking order. Roosters will communicate their dominance.  They each have their own 'harem' and the roosters do an effective job of policing one another and generally try to stay out of each others' way.  Every once in a while, though, a rooster will lose his spot in the pecking order.  He will get into an altercation with another rooster after the other rooster, usually a younger one, challenges him for the top spot. They'll fight and the loser, defeated and scared, will retreat.  It is sad what happens next.

The losing rooster will be picked on and intimidated by all the others and will hide from the others and will shortly die.  The other day this very event played out on our farm.  When we went out to milk, we saw one of our Aracauna roosters cowering in fear under the table near Rosie's milking stall in the barn.  He wasn't bleeding.  He didn't have broken bones,  He didn't appear to be injured.  But he was frightened and traumatized.  We've seen this play out several times.  When I fed the chickens, he never came out from under the table.  A broken dude, to be sure.

The Aracauna's hiding spot

I threw him some feed, hoping he'd come out, thinking that maybe, just maybe he'd get his "second wind" and fight back and live, but it was not to be.  A couple days later Russ found the rooster dead in his hiding spot in the barn under the table. What was the cause of death?  I don't know.  We didn't perform an autopsy on the old boy, but I think he died because he just gave up.

After getting beat up and knocked down, he just gave up and didn't have a will to live.  He cowered in fear in the corner of a dark barn and just quit.  Quit on his ladies.  Quit on life.  We buried the rooster in the garden, between the row of kale and carrots and even though he no longer lives, he'll provide fertilizer for our vegetables. So his dying wasn't a total waste, he has offspring running around the pasture and with the nutrients from his decomposing body, he'll provide for our garden, but his death was tragic and needless.

The rooster's final resting place

So what lesson did I learn from the rooster?  Well for one, we, just like roosters, will always have times in our lives when we'll get beat up.  Sometimes we will get beat up by literal bullies.  There is a pecking order.  Everyone can't be the "head rooster," but we all have an important role to play.  Just because we aren't the leader, doesn't mean that we can't contribute.  Excel in whatever role you have. Bloom where you are planted.

Sometimes we will just get beat up by events in life, disappointments, and dreams not realized.  I've been there.  So have you. In those times there will be a strong temptation to just hide in a corner, curling up in a fetal position and you'll just want to give up, quit, throw in the towel.  Take heart, old rooster!  Don't cower in the corner.  Come out fighting.  You have much to live for.  Don't give up. Never, ever give up.

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go."  Joshua 1:9