It’s been cold. On many nights, the needle on the outside thermometer has dipped well below 0°F. Daytime temps rise only into the low teens. I’ve written about cold weather care for chickens here and here. I’ve followed my own advice of don’t worry and keep things dry and give them a little extra feed. I have well-designed coops, and that makes all the difference in how the hens fare in this bitter cold.

The one thing that I do is to keep an eye out for frostbite. Surprisingly, chickens can walk around on ice and snow and not show any pain or signs of freezing in their feet. However, their combs will succumb. Frostbite can cause pain. It can reduce a rooster’s fertility and stop hens from laying. You’ll know severe frostbite when the tips of the comb turn black. They might even fall off.

I don’t worry about that with Veronica. She’s a Cuckoo Marans, which is a winter-hardy breed. Not only does she have an extra layer of soft feathers under her harder, water repellent outer feathers, but she also has a tight, low comb. She’s not going to get frostbite, no matter what Old Man Winter throws at her.

Cuckoo Marans in winter.

Nancy Drew is not a winter hardy breed. She’s a Black Star – a hybrid designed for laying. She has an upright, medium-sized comb. But, the cold hasn’t stopped her. She’s consistently laid an egg every other day. However, her comb is a duller red than the bright flame of summer.

I’ve kept a close eye on Twiggy. Leghorns are not winter hardy. They don’t have downy undercoats for warmth.

White Leghorn in winter.

They have ridiculously large and floppy combs which are useful for dissipating heat in the summer, but prone to frostbite in the winter. Twiggy’s comb has a bit of a grey cast to it, but is otherwise fine.

Smearing vaseline on the comb might protect it from frostbite. The petroleum jelly keeps water off of the comb itself, and therefore makes it less prone to freezing. My hens, in their dry coops, don’t have wet combs, and besides, rubbing vaseline on a hen is a messy, difficult job. Additionally, the hens that would benefit are the ones that don’t like handling. So far, I haven’t bothered.

The cold has not stopped Twiggy from laying her daily egg. The other morning it was -5°, and I saw her hop into the nesting box to do her job. She is also the first one outside in the morning. I suspect that if she was in weather like they have in Montana, down to 20 below, that the cold would be too much for her. But, here in frigid New England, Twiggy is doing fine.

However, the cold has been hard on Misty’s comb. Like the Twiggy, she’s a Mediterranean breed, sleek and with a large comb. She’s a flighty, nervous girl, so she’s not going to sit still in a warm patch of sun. Her comb, which looks like this in the summer

Blue Andalusian in summer.

has shrunk down to a grey ridge.

Blue Andalusian in winter.

Misty shows no sign of distress or pain, and there are no blackened dead spots. Will it plump up again in the summer? I don’t know. Will Veronica ever lay an egg? I don’t know that either.

I do know that all of the hens are behaving normally. The ones that lay, do. The flock goes outside for exercise and sunshine. This frigid polar weather isn’t getting them down.

A little over seven years ago I decided to get another dog, not for me, but for Lily.  I’d already had Lily for over four years, and it was clear that she didn’t have the temperament to meet and make friends with new dogs on the trail, or at lessons, or in contained dog parks. I’d tried all of those options. She was reactive and wary and didn’t read other dog’s body language accurately. She longed to play with other dogs, but they stressed her out. Stress can cause aggression. Add to the mix that Lily took her farm dog job seriously. She chased a neighbor’s Portuguese Water Dog out of the Beast’s pond. She told a clueless Labrador who wandered over, to get away from the goats. She’d encounter these same dogs out on walks in the woods. Were they friend or foe? I knew how, and did, do much work with her to calm around other dogs. However, she was an older rescue when I got her, and she’d missed out on that crucial socializing stage during her first few months. Lily was never going to be a relaxed social butterfly. She needed a dog friend that she could feel secure with. She needed a best buddy at home.

So, I went looking for puppy under ten weeks of age. I like intelligent and athletic working dogs. I like mixed breeds. One constraint was size. Lily travels in the car in a large crate, and there was only room in the back for an additional small crate. A dog about twenty pounds would be right. Lily liked boys more than girls, so I’d get a neutered male. I perused PetFinder.com, and there was a corgi mix mama, who had three adorable pups up for adoption! She was exactly the size and temperament I was looking for!

She and the pups were in foster care in a household with other dogs, one quite large and energetic, which meant that they’d been well-socilaized and used to a dog like Lily. The household also had a teenage boy, which also fit in with my criteria. I’d be able to bring the puppy home when he was only ten weeks old, so I’d be able to train him right from the start. No issues!

I chose the little male (sleeping to the far left.) With those coats, I was sure that I was getting a Corgi-Terrier mix. Perfect!

Lily was not immediately ecstatic. Was this a new squeak toy? A chipmunk? The first week I rewarded her for calm interest.

Soon, Lily caught on.

And Scooter made himself right at home.

And they became fast friends.

So, Lily got what she wanted.

Scooter, however, was not what I expected. I have never liked toy dogs. I like sturdy, active smart dogs. Scooter weighs 10 1/2 pounds. He’s a little, shivery lap dog. Most of the day you can find him sleeping where it is warm and cozy.

In the summer, he prefers to sleep in the sun.

Lily protects him from hawks.

Once in awhile he wakes up and gazes sweetly at you.

Then he goes back to sleep. Lily has been taught a repertoire of tricks and useful behaviors. Scooter, who we call the dog of little brain, has one. I say, “look cute!” and, of course, he does.

It turned out that Scooter didn’t match any of my criteria, and yet somehow, he is perfect in every way. He’s taught me to embrace the unexpected. You never know who might become your best friend.

Happy Seventh Birthday, Scooter!

I pinned a new egg chart onto the kitchen bulletin board, took down the old and tallied it up. I’ve been using this record keeping system for seven years, and I’ve learned much by looking for patterns and anomalies. For example, take a guess at which month is the highest producing. Did you guess May? June? Year after year, my hens lay the most eggs in March! This is because, by early spring, daylight hours lengthen, the molt is totally done, and (this is important) no one is broody yet. In another month the broodies will be taking up spots in the nesting boxes, but laying nary an egg. By late summer there will be stretches when heat stresses out the hens, reducing their productivity. By the end of August the poorest layers begin to molt. And so, early spring is the prime laying season.

Pullets don’t molt, and so that first year they should lay right through the winter. The Gems did. However, my Literary Ladies (my six pullets) have been a disappointment in their egg laying ability. Twiggy and Nancy Drew, between them, consistently leave ten eggs weekly. Both are breeds designed to be good layers. The others? They don’t lay at all! They are breeds that are not known for being winter hardy, or high producers. Still, I thought they’d lay one or two a week. Nothing! I am looking forward to March and am hoping that they will show their pleasure that it is springtime by leaving me some eggs.

Older hens produce fewer eggs each year. First of all, they take off several months to molt. Secondly, their egg laying ability slacks off somewhat. This year, my Gems laid 1,460 eggs. In 2012 they laid 2,103. Even taking into account that I sold the two broody hens to Kim in Maine, that’s still 643 fewer eggs. Two things happened in 2013 to account for that: there was a severe heat wave, and a respiratory disease felled the flock, requiring antibiotics.

In 2014, the Gems will be into their their third full year of lay. It is likely that a hen or two will die (for some chickens, three is a natural lifespan) and others will lay, but fewer than the year before. Fingers crossed, I won’t have a sick flock again. Meanwhile, the Ladies should be picking up the slack. However, judging by their 2013 performance, I’m not expecting much. Still, the hens in my backyard should lay enough eggs for my household of three. In fact, even during this winter deep freeze, right now, while writing this, I am snacking on a hard-cooked egg.

You’d think that after severely cold temperatures, that I’d welcome a break in the weather. I don’t. The sort of warm spell that we’re having today is when I worry.

This morning I woke to a serene and haunting scene.

The paths had turned dangerous, as only a thin layer of water over ice can do. Even Lily knows to walk on the snow.

The runs are a sheet of frozen manure, ice, and dripping water.

By 8 am, the air had already warmed to over 30º F;  it is expected to reach 40 before the day is over. But, there’s snow on the ground, and this produces fog. The air is thickly damp. It is moist both outside and inside of the barns.

That damp is far more dangerous than cold. I’ll do what I can. I’ll skip out manure and put down dry bedding. I’ll do my best so that respiratory disease doesn’t blow in with the fog.

Tomorrow we’ll be back to a deep freeze. I’ll trade my worry over illness to caution moving around. The snow will solidify into a thick crust, and melted puddles will become slick ice, It will be impossible for hoofed animals and people to walk safely. Only the foxes and coyotes will be running freely. Phoebe, though, safe inside of the pen, will be kicking up her heels with joy. That’s one reason why I like to have an animal around that enjoys the winter – the weather is better from her perspective.