Preparing for Irene

I just came back from almost a week away. I was all the way across the country, in San Francisco, settling my son into college. There’s always catch-up to do when one gets home. There’s laundry and grocery shopping, and the dogs claim to have been neglected and require lots of scratching.

The garden has truly been neglected. Of course there’s always the humungous squash,

ripe tomatoes,

and green beans (Blue Lake and French Climbing) that need picking.

It’s overgrown, but it could wait.

Except there’s a hurricane coming. The current prediction is that it’s going to pass right over the top of my house and coops and garden Sunday afternoon. Those tomatoes are going to fly off the vine.

There won’t be any corn left standing.

Today I’m harvesting everything I can, and then I’ll do what I can to preserve it.

Before the rains come (they’re predicting more than 5 inches) and the winds hit (up to 70 MPH gusts), Candy will be tucked into a hutch and put inside the HenCam coop. It’s a sturdy little building where she can ride out the storm safely. We’ll fill a bathtub with water and have lanterns and candles ready for when the power goes out. (It undoubtably will. The question is for how long.) Lawn furniture and planters are getting stowed in the garage. I’ll stop in the library tomorrow and find something to read. Something light-hearted. Any suggestions?

I hope that everyone in Irene’s path stays dry and safe! We’ll be fine. We’ve got tomatoes, bread and cheese to last a week.

Keeping It In Perspective

There’s been a fair share of death and disease written about here lately, so I thought I’d do a post to keep things in perspective. Sometimes those bucolic fantasies of beautiful chickens free-ranging in the flower beds really are true. Here are some photos of the Gems to end your week on a happy note.

 

Chickens Have Messy Bottoms

One of the reasons that people chose to have chickens is that we like to look at them. Feathers shimmer in a range of gorgeous hues. Their fluffy-feathered bottoms are both charming and comical. Some breeds are sleek, and some, like my cochin, Pearl, look like a fussy Victorian lady.

What we don’t picture, when we get chickens for the first time, is all of the runny manure and other unpleasant things that stream out their backsides. Any hint of disease often first shows up as diarrhea. Then, there’s lice and mites which cause red, bare bottoms. Sometimes, hens lose the feathers around their vents and what you see is a bare bottom. Not as bad looking as a baboon’s, but not an attractive picture, either.

How to know what is a problem and what to do?

In the case of Philomena, the hen with the bare butt, above, nothing needs to be done. Note that there’s no dried manure stuck to her vent and that there’s no irritation of the skin. A close inspection shows no signs of external parasites. I’ve seen many bottoms that look like this, and they’re always on my best layers, and those are usually hybrids or breeds designed for high production that never had a lot of feathers near the vent in the first place.

The hens I do worry about have smelly, thin, runny poo stuck to their vent feathers. This is often a sign of vent gleet (a yeast infection I’ve written about here.) Clean them up with a bath and dose with epsom salts and it often clears up. Some hens, though, like Buffy, have persistent cases. I’ve had Buffy for six years and her fluffy Orpington vent feathers have always been yucky.

Some hens get a mysterious skin ailment. A couple of years ago, Eleanor, another elderly hen here, developed a hot, thick, red skin rash around her vent. Epsom salt baths seemed to make her comfortable but the symptoms didn’t go away.

My flock of older hens, although healthy enough, weren’t a pretty sight this summer. I’ve been concerned that the exposed skin was susceptible to injury or infection. And, honestly, I was tired of Buffy’s smelly bottom. I’d recently read that providone alleviated vent gleet. Providone is similar to iodine, but is a stronger, broader spectrum bactericide. (It’s more expensive than bactrine, but worth it.)

As long as I was going to treat Buffy, I decided to do all of my older girls. First they got baths. I used an herbal dog shampoo with tea tree oil in it, which is supposed to be an effective antiseptic. I happened to have the shampoo – I’ve used ivory dish soap on hens, too, but this fancy dog shampoo certainly made them smell nicer!) I only did their bottom halves. Since I was cleaning the feathers of caked on manure, I wore disposable gloves. I really hate getting poo under my fingernails. After bathing, the hens got a thorough rinsing off with clean water. It was a hot day, so I held them under a hose. No one seemed to mind much, but I’d dunk them in a tub of lukewarm water if the weather was cooler.

Here is Maizie getting bathed.

Once each hen was cleaned up, I squirted the providone on the bare skin near the vent and rubbed it in. Use gloves and don’t wear clothes you care about. This stuff stains!

I treated the hens in June, and look at how lovely Buffy’s bottom is today. No runny, stinky secretions.

And here is Eleanor. Her bottom is fluffy again! She’s looking quite stylish for an old hen.

Chicken Keeping Workshop!

For those of you who couldn’t make it to the first Chicken Keeping Workshop, I’ve scheduled another. It will be on Saturday, September 24 from 2 to 4 pm. I’ll cover all of the basics so that you can get started with chickens in your own backyard. You’ll tour my coops and meet the hens (and even learn how to pick one up!)  Once again, I’ll provide homemade cookies and tea (maybe hot if the weather is autumn-chilly), and if you’d like to stay a little longer, you can visit with the goats. The boys would like that.

The cost is only $20. Email me to reserve a spot.

UPDATE:  this workshop is full, but I am taking names for a waiting list. If interested in the next one, please email and I’ll put you on the list.

Unwelcome House Guests

House Sparrows are like mice – they’re cute, but way too prolific and you don’t want to share your home with them. There’s been a gang of house sparrows in the HenCam coop. I could tell they were young and inexperienced because instead of zippily flying out when they saw me, they’d barge around and fly into the window. A seasoned bird knows to dip down and fly right out the chicken’s pop door. It took me awhile, but it finally dawned on me that there was a nest somewhere inside the coop. Steve found it in the eaves above the window.

He reached in (gloved, but still, I was glad not to be doing this) and pulled out handful after handful of hay and grasses that the sparrows had constructed their bedroom with.

A coop is a smart place to have a nest. It’s closed up and protected from predators at night, but open for business during the day. There’s food and water within easy reach. The sparrows were not pleased to be evicted. This morning they were flying around outside of the coop, making bzzinking chirps and looking annoyed and hassled, like teenagers woken up early.

I don’t  feel sorry for them. House sparrows carry diseases, like mycoplasma, and external parasites, like mites. They’re pests. They won’t have a safe haven in the coop any longer.

Meanwhile, I seem to be losing the battle of the chipmunks outside. Lily is not taken in by their adorableness, and has done a valiant job keeping them out of my garden. But, she was out of commission for a week due to her torn dew claw. In that time my peach tree went from this

to this:

Good farm dog Lily is back at work. I’m hoping the peaches will ripen this week and I’ll be able to salvage half the crop.

Meanwhile, the corn is up. It’s not quite ready for harvesting. I’m waiting and watching. As are the raccoons. We’ll see who gets to it first.