Molting Time

Around the barn and hen house, the ground is littered by feathers.  One by one our laying hens are molting.  They are losing their old, dull feathers and are replacing them with fresh, new feathers.  Pardon the photos today.  I'm using a new cheap-o phone camera until I get a new work phone and the photos aren't as sharp as they normally are.  But, the hen in full molt that I was trying to get a picture of was not photogenic.  She was running around quickly, embarrassed, no doubt to be caught on film an a "bad hair day."

She has only one or two tail feathers remaining.  Most of her side and back feathers are gone and you can see the prickly-looking pin feathers taking their place.  The remaining feathers on her side and neck are a dull grey and white, rather than the black and white coloration that the Barred Rock usually has.

The hen looks like she's having a bad day, doesn't she?  You can even see her pink flesh on her rear-end since she's featherless there.  Molting is a normal thing with chickens, especially during the fall. The days get shorter and even in south Louisiana, it will get cooler.  The Good Lord knows that the hens will need quality feathers to help them get through the winter cold.  Also, we've noticed that our egg production has fallen off.  This is because the hens are redirecting their energy from laying eggs to growing new feathers.  The Creator has that all figured out.  It is marvelous the way it all works!

In a short time the molting hen will put on new feathers and will look like the hen in the foreground and also the one in the top left in the photo below.

You can see the difference.  The feathers are bolder in color and they are fluffier and thicker.  The bird just looks healthier.  While the birds are molting, we've put out a higher protein Laying ration that will give them nutrients they need during this time of change.  

Staying in Your Lane

Last year an acquaintance of ours offered to give us a rooster.  The rooster was purchased from a feed store as a baby chick and was supposed to be a laying hen.  However, as the chick grew and matured, it was discovered that the hen was not a hen - it was a rooster!  Roosters don't lay eggs and this person lived in town and didn't want a crowing rooster to wake up the neighborhood.  We gladly accepted the rescue rooster onto our homestead. 

He has grown into a regal-looking gentleman.  Most times that a new bird is introduced into a flock and its already established pecking order, they are ostracized, picked on, and bullied.  Sometimes this mistreatment ends in death.  Not in this case.  The old boy had lots of confidence from day 1, proudly patrolling the barnyard, putting the other roosters on notice and catching the eye of his new harem of hens.

Right before the sun rises, the rooster's crows reverberate around the country-side, alerting slumbering neighbors of the dawn of a new day.  The rooster struts around, keeping his hens in line.  He is the cock of the walk.  One afternoon last week I saw him standing on top of the garden fence and felt trouble was brewing.  I don't want the old boy in the garden, scratching in the mulch and eating our produce.  We once had a chicken that would sneak into the garden and eat the bottoms out of our homegrown tomatoes.  We put a fast end to that.

Saturday afternoon, the fence-sitting progressed to trespassing.  I cornered the curious cock and took swift action.  The bird is big and put up a fight.  His wingspan was quite impressive.

'Twas that impressive wingspan that enabled the old fellow to fly up to the top of the garden gate and then hop down into the garden.  This rooster needs to learn to stay in his lane.  We drew a 'red line in the sand.'

Before

You may be thinking that we killed the rooster, but that's not at all what we did.  I got some scissors to clip his wings.  By clipping his wings, he would no longer be able to fly to the top of the garden gate.  Snip-Snip, here.  Snip-Snip, there, and the job was quickly done!

After

Without those feathers, he would not be able to get in trouble by trespassing into the garden.  His wings were literally clipped.

Like the rooster, we can all step out of our boundaries from time to time.  A little encouragement to help us stay in our lane is much appreciated.  The old fellow's wings will eventually grow back and we will have to clip wings again, but for now, he is grounded, and he is in a "fowl" mood because of it.

Birds of a Feather...

Chickens are interesting creatures to watch.  They are entertaining and have their own personalities.  They have habits and rituals like people do.  For instance, they roost at the same spot each night.  It is a similar phenomenon how people sit in the same pew at church each Sunday morning.  We have our spot, by golly, and no one is going to take it from us!

Our hens also go through the same things each year at the same time.  One, for instance, is the reduction in egg output as the number of daylight hours go down.  Another is their propensity to molt at this time.  Not all, but some.  You can see the Black Star hen below has not started molting.  However, the Barred Rock behind her?  She is a sad spectacle to behold.

Just look at this sad looking bird, would you?  She looks embarrassed that I am taking her picture with her feathers looking so undone.  Here's what's going on.  After a year of full feathers, the tired, worn, faded feathers are falling off.  They are being refreshed with brand new feathers that will cover the bird and keep her warm throughout the winter months.  As ugly as she looks now, be patient.  She'll look like a million bucks shortly.  Amidst the faded feathers, you can see the new ones coming in.  Right now they are just pin feathers - feathers that are rolled up tight.  But they'll keep growing and push through the hair follicle to emerge as new feathers.

Soon the molt will be over and this hen will look presentable again.  Not only that, but her new feathers will keep her warm as the north winds begin to blow.  A new feather coat just in time for winter!

2018 Meat Birds - 1 Week Old

We're one week into this year's edition of the on-going experiment of growing our own poultry.  We learn something new each year.  Sometimes when we try to incorporate things learned, we solve old problems and new ones crop up.  Here's a brief narrative of what has transpired in the last week:

The fowl (err... foul) smell emanating from the brooder lets you immediately know that the little boogers are eating a lot.  We add fresh shavings to the brooder, but it doesn't take them long to soil the fresh shavings.  The portion of cattle panel over the top of the brooder is a semi-protective measure that we added to help dissuade our cats from eating our birds.  In the first two days we lost 8 birds and then one more on the third day to bring the death count (so far) to 9.  Not good!

Since last week, we've added a gallon sized waterer in addition to a smaller one and a second feed trough.  I would think that we'll be adding a third trough and perhaps a second waterer as the chicks need for feed (and water) increases.  Although not captured in the photo below, we've expanded the size of the brooder.  Maybe I'll illustrate how we did this later this week.

I randomly selected an averaged sized chick and put him on our kitchen scale.  First, a sat a scrap piece of paper on the scale to protect it from poop.  The chick is at an awkward stage of growth with his cute fuzz being replaced with tiny feathers.

He weighs in at one week old at 7 ounces.
2017 birds at one week old weighed 7 1/2 ounces.
2016 birds at one week old weighed 8 ounces.

Although the weight is a little off over previous years, I'm not going to worry about it.  We have some time to make that weight up - about 8 weeks, to be exact.  Oh, I wanted to show you the baby feathers I spoke of earlier:

Here they are, the first white feathers growing out on the wing tips.  We will post again next week and compare notes on growth and the life and times of a meat bird.

We're Caught In a Trap...

Elvis Presley sang a song called, "Suspicious Minds" that started with the following lyrics:

We're caught in a trap

I can't walk out

Because I love you too much baby

Why can't you see

What you're doing to me

When you don't believe a word I say?

I found myself singing that song this afternoon and you'll soon know why.  After catching 6 rats in 5 days in a trap I set in the garden, I stopped catching them.  Perhaps I caught all the ones that were venturing into the garden, but I saw two in the barn the other evening.  I figured I would mix things up a little bit and move the trap into the barn to thin out the population there.  Actually, I want to do more than thin them out - I want to eradicate them.  This morning at 5:30 a.m. when I flipped on the lights in the barn, this is what I found:

"I'm caught in a trap.  I can't walk out..."

Not a rat.  A medium sized possum.  He was not happy.  He hissed at me with an open mouth like possums like to do.  While I do want to catch and kill all the rats, I have no qualms about catching and killing all the possums, too.  Since this guy is medium-sized, I know there is a Momma Possum and a Daddy possum out there.  I've re-baited the trap with 'Ol Roy dog food and we'll see if we continue being successful in our trapping.

"Why can't you see, what you're doin' to me?"

I dealt with our captive swiftly and humanely and he found himself amended into our garden soil where his remains will provide nutrients that will grow possum flavored green beans this spring.  Catching the possum also answered a mystery.  One afternoon this week I walked out to the pasture and saw the following: 

If you look closely, you can see a bunch of feathers from a Rhode Island Red hen.  I didn't find a carcass, so he wasn't successful in killing the hen, but the next time the predator comes around, our hen might not be so fortunate.  Maybe the possum in the trap was the guilty party.  Me and the Rhode Island Red hopes so.

Setting the Pullets Free

Even though the picture below was taken on an overcast, foggy Saturday morning, I think it is beautiful.  It is a nice shot because as far as the eye can see on our little 3 acre pasture, you can see our free-range laying hens scratching, roaming, searching for bugs, worms, and the first, tender growth of grass.  The hens go where they please and are free.

Oh give me a home, where the laying hens roam...

That is opposed to our pullets.  We have a little system that has worked for us in which we hatch out baby chicks from our incubator, keep them in a brooder and then when old enough, we move them out to pasture into one of three chicken tractors we have.  The chicken tractors are on wheels and have nesting boxes, roosting bars and no caged bottom.  We push them to fresh grass every day so that their poop is broadcast across the pasture to enhance grass growth.

These chickens are NOT free.  Better than being in an immovable coop, but not totally free.  That is, until they begin laying their first eggs between 20 - 24 weeks. Then we open the doors to the tractor and they are free to roam.  At this age, they are large enough to not squeeze through the hog wire fence that surrounds the pasture and they can fend for themselves (mostly) against the weather and predators.

Before releasing them, there's a bit of work to do.  As you can see from the photo below, there are some roosters in the tractor.  This is because we hatched them from our own eggs and you can usually count on 50% cockerels and 50% pullets.  We don't let all of the roosters out, though.  I only let enough out to maintain a 1 rooster for every 10 hen ratio.  The remaining roosters will be for supper. We'll butcher them and put them in the freezer and they'll make fine fricassee.

Pullets ready for freedom

First, Russ got into the tractor with a net and caught each pullet and handed them to me so that I can trim their wings.  I don't want them flying over the fence as they'll get themselves killed by the neighborhood dogs.  I had some sharp clippers and I expand one of their wings out.  

An Aracauna's wings

I clip only one of the wings.  I used to cut two before someone smartly told me that cutting both was unnecessary since with one wing clipped, they would be unbalanced and unable to fly.  They were right.  I clip the wings pretty far down, but not enough to draw blood or hurt them.  This Aracauna is a beautiful bird.  She lays blue and green eggs.  We don't name our laying hens, but if we did, her name would be Smoky.

Clip, clip...

You would think that chickens would be going nuts while I clip them, but if you put them on their backs, they become amazingly calm while you clip their feathers. Once done, setting them right side up, they'll give a brisk shake and take off, exuberant about their freedom and the prospects of not being confined to a 12 foot by 6 foot chicken tractor with 22 other birds.

Free at Last! Free at Last!

Then it's on to the next bird - a barred rock.  In all we set 13 pullets free after trimming their feathers on their right wing with some sharp clippers.  The first year I did this I used ordinary scissors and in the process, compressed a nerve on my middle finger which resulted in my finger being numb for more than a week.  My weirdest injury ever, but it taught me to use the proper tools for the job.

Note to self: Use sharp clippers!

At the end of my task, I had a nice pile of feathers from multiple breeds of chickens. Ordinarily, I'd rake them up and compost them, but over the years I learned an unusual fact.  Feathers are composed of protein and as a result, the chickens will come around once you're done and eat every last one of them.  Sure enough, the next afternoon, there was not a feather in sight!

Here today - Gone tomorrow

The pullets seem a little awkward at first, sort of like you might feel if you are in a new place with lots of people you don't know.  Same thing here.  They stay close to one another and don't venture out much.  Although the existing roosters on the pasture rush up to introduce themselves as you see in the photo below:

Rooster (far left) introducing himself to four prospective harem members

I notice after a few days that they are all still hanging around the chicken tractor that they were released from, but if history is any indication, they'll slowly assimilate to the flock on the pasture.  It just takes them a little while.

A Chick Check Up

How do you like this new time?  I am not fond of it.  When I get home it is dark and it is difficult to get anything done outside.  That relegates my activities to indoor projects.  Ugh...  Yesterday I went to the garage and was just "puttering around." Do you ever putter around?  It takes great skill and patience to putter around.  To the untrained eye, when you are puttering around, it looks like you are just wasting time, but  unorganized action and lack of a clear goal aside, puttering can be therapeutic and somewhat productive.  I'm an accomplished putterer and it has taken years to perfect my craft.

Yesterday afternoon I was in the garage, deeply engaged in putterishness.  The outside temperature was dropping and I wanted to make sure that our 24 Barred Rock pullet chicks would continue to be comfortable in the brooder.  The thick bed of hay and the heat lamp provides a perfect environment for little growing chicks.  I added a little more chick feed to the tray and watched them jump in the tray and instinctively scratch with their little feet at the feed.

These are perhaps the most healthy birds that we've ever received in the mail.  They have been so lively since day 1.  They seem to be eating as much as we give them and drinking plenty of water.  At this point, they haven't soiled the hay in the bottom of the brooder such that the garage stinks and that is a good thing.  I have some repair work to do on the chicken tractors in the pasture before I move them out of the garage and that will require daylight, or Saturday or Sunday, to get that done.

But before we move them outside they have to have gotten feathers.  I decided to pick up one of the little chicks and inspect her 'featherization.'  (I think I just coined a word.)  When I tried to pick one up they all scattered, frightened by me.  Finally I snatched one little girl up and held her in my hand. While she's still mostly got the fuzz or down or whatever you call it, she does have something resembling feathers growing on the tips of her wings.  Can you see them?

"A bird in the hand..."

Let's take a closer look.  There.  I stretched out her wing and a uniform row of perfectly formed wing feathers appears, letting me know that our chicks are quickly developing.  That's a good thing.  The shortened days, molting adult hens, and reduced amount of protein available on our pasture have caused the adult hens' egg production to drop to about 2 dozen a day when we were collecting about 6 dozen a day previously.  These 24 chicks will be laying eggs in about 22 weeks, if all goes according to plan, and will supplement the egg production of our existing flock.

Wing feathers coming in

The little chick was getting impatient with me holding her and I put her back with her 23 other friends so they could eat until they were full and then bask in the radiant glow of the heat lamp. Other chickens sit under a heat lamp on the stainless steel counter at Popeye's.  Not ours.  These fortunate chicks will soon be out on pasture and will live out the rest of their days on green grass, eating bugs and worms, scratching through cow patties, taking dust baths and doing other important chicken activities.

It's high time I put the chick back in the brooder.  I have more puttering around to get done.

The Ugly Hen

Yesterday afternoon I happened upon a terrifically ugly Aracauna hen right next to the chicken tractor that is full of the chicks that we hatched in our incubator.  She is normally a pretty hen that has beautiful smoky gray color to her feathers.  She was running around trying to evade me and as I got closer, I could see why.  The old girl was just ugly.  What little feathers she did have were rough and unruly.  She had no feathers in some places and you could see her pink skin.  In other places, she had pin feathers sticking straight out.  What's going on with the ol' girl?

Ugly Aracauna Hen

The Aracauna hen is molting.  That's why she's uglier than sin.  Just like in Autumn you see the trees shedding their leaves, during the molt, the chicken, once a year, loses her feathers and replaces them with new ones.  As the days get shorter, it prompts the chickens to begin molting.  The long, hot days of summer has made all the hens' feathers dull and faded looking.  The molt will cause all these feathers to fall out and they'll be replaced by shiny, healthy feathers.  Fun Fact I learned on the Internet: An average chicken has about 8,500 feathers.

Feathers are mostly protein, so during a molt, the chicken has to make a decision: To use the protein intake to grow new feathers or to lay eggs.  She can't do both. This is why we can always count on fewer eggs in the Fall as the days shorten and the chickens begin molting.  But it's not only hens that molt - roosters molt, too.

The Molt

I know she looks weird, but the hard coating on her pin feathers will fall off and the underlying feathers will unfurl and pretty soon she won't run around looking hideous in the pasture.

Chicken-proofing the barn

A while back we talked about our chickens that have made themselves at home in the barn.  This causes a multitude of problems for us, including:

1. They poop all over the place.  
2. The roosters crow LOUDLY in the barn in the morning while we're milking.
3. The roosters and hens in amorous delight chase each other causing major drama when we need peace during milking.
4. The chickens jump up in the cows' feed trough and battle the cows for feed causing more drama.
5. Finally, they fly up into the hay loft and lay eggs in hidden nests that we don't find until much later.  The other day we found a nest of 19 eggs and they were much too old to eat.

So I had on my list to 'chicken-proof' the barn.  The chickens can climb underneath the edge of the barn since the siding doesn't go all the way down to ground level.  I was going to purchase a load of dirt and spread it in the barn, closing the entry into the barn.  It rained, though, ruling that option out for a long time. But our ditch had silted up and I needed to dig it out, so I figured I'd kill two birds with one stone and bring all the dirt/mud from the ditch and use it to fill up the areas in the barn where the chickens were coming in.

"Dredging" the ditch out

I shoveled out the ditch, placing the mud/grass in an old molasses tub.  When full, I would then pull it in our garden wagon out to the barn and shovel it in the holes where the chickens were getting in.

Digging ditches

You can see where I'm filling in the gap beneath the barn with mud that will harden and build up that area, keeping the chickens out.  I did this all around the perimeter of the barn.  This was a long, hard job (and very good exercise for someone who sits behind a desk in an office job all day)!

Filling in the holes

Right in front of the front gate to the barn, there is a big mud hole.  I filled it with the mud that will harden and hopefully fill in that low area.  The gutters we just hung on the barn should help out as well.  This also closed the gap beneath the gate where the chickens were doing the limbo dance to get under the gate and into the barn.

A muddy mess!

One more thing:  Not only were they climbing under the barn, but some were flying over the gate and into the barn.  I waited until evening and went to the barn and caught all of the birds that were inside.  I used my clippers to clip the feathers on one of their wings.  This will make them off-balance and they won't be able to fly over the gate.

Shave and a haircut - two bits.

When I was finished there was a pretty good pile of feathers beneath my milking bench.  Speaking of that bench, I made it years ago with lumber from a pine tree that lightning struck and killed at my parents' home.  It is heart pine and is still sturdy and strong after many years.  I've milked out hundreds and hundreds of gallons of milk sitting on that bench.

Milking bench, clippers, and feathers.

So the next morning when Tricia and I went out to milk... It was peaceful!!  There was only one chicken in the barn.  It was one we had missed when clipping wings the other day.  We'll take care of her tomorrow. All of the other hens have found new places to roost outside of the barn.  

Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men, indeed!