It’s molting season. The chickens are looking scruffy.

The hens are stressed. Some have come out of weeks-long broody spells, only to head right into the molt. Others have been laying so steadily all summer that now they are depleted of nutrients. All chickens over a year old are losing their feathers. Replenishing their bodies and growing new plumage takes a lot of energy, protein and calcium. You see your girls looking like this and you want to do something.

During this time, hens need an optimum diet. Continue to feed high-quality laying hen pellets and avoid empty-caloried treats, like handfuls of cracked corn and stale bread. You can purchase laying hen pellets that are designed especially for molting season with nutrients added that promote feather growth.  I’m not convinced that this expensive feed is worth the cost. (Skeptical me thinks that the manufacturers are catering to the owner’s worries more than what is actually necessary for the flocks.) I caution against feeding a lot of high protein treats, like mealworms, because chickens will gorge on them whether they need them or not, and excessive protein causes kidney failure.

I do what farmers did back before supplements. I feed alfalfa. Alfalfa looks like hay (which is a grass), but it’s not. Alfalfa is a legume. It’s packed with digestible (for chickens, not you!) protein and calcium. There is evidence that feeding alfalfa reduces the amount of salmonella in a hen’s gut. The difficulty for the urban and backyard chicken keeper is finding it in a form that you can handle and bring home. Pellets are convenient, but they are formulated with more stem than leaf, and what the hens require are those nutrient-dense leaves. A small box of alfalfa, sold in the rabbit section of the pet store, is very expensive and wouldn’t last a week. A bale at the feed store usually weighs over a hundred pounds! But, you can find what you need in the horse aisle: chopped alfalfa mixed with molasses. (This is horse feed, the molasses makes it more palatable for the animals; the hens don’t mind.)

This is the brand that I feed – it comes in a 40 pound plastic bag, the size and heft of a bag of pine shavings. Every morning, I toss a handful out into the run. Because the stems are chopped, your hens won’t get impacted crops. They like it enough, but don’t eat too much. They look for the leafy bits and ignore the rest. What they don’t eat is quickly scratched into the ground and improves the soil. Here, Ruby is finding the best pieces. She is a superb layer who hasn’t yet begun to molt.

Jasper, however, is another story. This head shot shows the few remaining feathers falling out, and the new quills coming in.

Here’s a view from another angle. Oh, Jasper.

It’s a good thing for her that she likes the alfalfa. Eat up, girl.

I started feeding Lucerne Farms alfalfa in early August, when I first noticed thin-shelled eggs. The hens already had free-choice oyster shell and an excellent diet, but their fragile eggs were breaking in the nesting boxes. Within a few weeks of feeding alfalfa, the shells thickened up.

Now that we’re halfway through October, there are fewer eggs for the hens to put their resources into laying, but many feathers to be built. Hens like Jasper could use help! Once the molt is over, I’ll continue to feed alfalfa through the winter when the girls will appreciate the green tidbits. So, my hens get alfalfa, but my horse does not. Alfalfa is too rich for him – Tonka eats classic timothy hay (he is indulged with carrots and peppermint candy.)

UPDATE: please read this post as well. Roughage can cause issues. Make sure that you feed grit and that your hens aren’t eating alfalfa to excess.

(FYI, I stumbled upon the Lucerne Farms alfalfa at a horse expo, and I asked them for a bag of their alfalfa to try. So, I did receive free product for this post, but I was not paid for a positive review. I have tried products by other companies that I have not endorsed.)

I drove out to the Percheron World Congress with much anticipation. Right there, next to the parking lot, was what I’d come to see. Massive work horses, doing what they’ve done for centuries – working alongside their people.

This was teamwork, both between the horses themselves,

and between the animals and their plowman (and, for some, plow-woman.) One horse is the furrow horse, The other walks on the land yet to be tilled. In this competition the team is judged on how straight they go and how uniform the depth of the furrow is. Note that the reins are around the man’s neck. The horses respond to voice cues, only rarely does the plowman tug on a rein.

I chatted with some of the plowmen and women, and spectators. It was a small group. Wives told me that this is what their husbands do for fun. None of these horses are necessary for their farms (although I did see some Mennonites, and perhaps they relied more on horsepower.) But, the horses do seem to be necessary for their hearts. It’s a day in, day out, commitment of time and resources. Folks joked about it, but no one regretted it.

These horses are huge, but their temperaments are calm. They have to be, to have the patience to stand in a field. There was a lot of affection shown between the horses and people.

After watching the plowing contest, I went into the Coliseum to see the show horses. These horses were even more massive. Here is a champion stallion.

At first glance, these gleaming, polished animals are glorious. The show horses are from a lineage used to pull heavy carriages, and to go at a trot for long distances. But, these days the distance traveled is more likely around a ring in front of a judge. LIke so many show animals, (purebred dogs come to mind) these Percherons have been bred for extreme looks and movement.

Spectacular. But, look closely.

The hooves are grown out, as large as they can go, to the point that they crack and have to be filled in with putty.

The shoes are weighted. This is what causes that fancy action. Polish hides only so much.

For comparison, here are the feet of a Percheron plow horse. As big as dinner plates, but natural in shape. Tonka weighs 1,000 pounds less, but this is how he is shod.

The shoeing isn’t the only way to get the flashy action in the show ring. For in-hand classes, whips are waved at the horses, scaring them into erect posture and pricked ears. This is the antithesis of what the plowmen want. (As an aside, you can train alert, arched posture using positive reinforcement. No threats necessary.)

Check reins are used to hold the heads up. See that strap going through the mouth and up towards the ears? It has no purpose except to create an upright carriage.

Once my eyes saw what was going on under the all of the flashiness, it was hard to watch.

There were a few carriage teams that did not buy into the saddlebred look. Those horses had naturally-shaped hooves, and even had full tails (Percherons usually have docked tails – most of the tail, including the bone – is cut off – which means they can’t flick flies. Supposedly this is done to keep the tails from getting tangled in harness but it is unnecessary and cruel.) None of those teams won ribbons.

So, I went back outside to watch the plow horses.

Authentic. Worth preserving.

When you think about a fair, is it the midway and the carnival games that come to mind? Do you go for the fried food and the evening entertainment? Fairs have all of those things, but underneath they retain their original purpose, as educational meeting grounds for rural, agricultural communities. Nowhere is that more evident than in New England’s remaining county fairs. Last weekend, I spent the day at the Fryeburg Fair, which is in the lakes region of Maine.

The day began with the Grand Parade. In the 1800s, yoked oxen powered small farms. Amazingly, there are still families that raise up these animals from birth and dedicate hours to their care and training. Young and old. Boys and girls.

The goal is a matched team. Look at how this one is so perfectly in tune that they are walking in unison.

Horses are still used for logging and other tasks in the Maine woods. Some also go to fairs and compete in pulling contests. Here is the grand champion team from this year’s fair.

It is expensive, in both time and money, to keep horses that pull carts. Most people are unaware that there are horses (other than the Budweiser Clydesdales) that do this. The fair is the place to see these animals, and for their owners to socialize with each other. There was much showing off. Driving a team of six Haflingers takes tremendous skill!

There are rows of wooden barns at the  Fryeburg Fair. Inside, there were sheep being readied to be judged. This young woman is cleaning her ewe’s ears with a Q-tip.

In the barns are hardworking girls in pigtails and jeans. Breaks from showing and grooming are taken with the animals.

The pig showmanship class is always a draw.

I’ve a feeling that this old sow has taught many 4-H children.

I love the faces of the fair, like this duck in the poultry barn,

and these Nubians in the goat barn.

On the wall in the goat barn was this sign. How true.

The petting barn was filled with goats and kids (both human and caprine.) Everyone was smiling.

In the afternoon, there was harness racing, which has a long history in Maine.

It was a full day. Good thing that there was plenty of food to sustain us. I gravitate to the booths run by the church ladies. I had some excellent corn chowder, and having come to this fair before, I knew exactly which fried food to get – these French fries. Made from fresh Maine potatoes, of course.

Is it fair season in your neck of the woods? What specialities do you have?