It’s that time of year – leaves fall, and so do feathers. Have six hens and, starting in late summer, they’ll all start and finish molting at different times. Some of this variation is due to innate genetics. Some is due to health – a stressed hen molts. In my flock it’s obvious that age is a determinant of when a hen begins the molt.

The Gems in the Big Barn hatched in 2011. The Ladies in the Little Barn hatched in 2013.  Of the Gems, Pearl and Onxy are already done dropping feathers and are growing new ones in.

 

 

Other Gems are in various, obvious stages of the molt. For example, Ruby is rumpless.

 

The younger Ladies are a several weeks behind, but the molt has started in the Little Barn, as well. See those twisted, loose feathers on beautiful Beatrix? Soon she won’t look so elegant.

 

 

But my Black Star, Beulah has yet to lose a feather (except to social picking.) She’s still laying, and I’m still having eggs for breakfast.

 

This is why I like having younger hens. I do enjoy eggs and toast in the morning.

This is a special guest blog by my part-time IT Guy and full-time husband Steve. I’ll be back tomorrow. -Terry

Hi everyone!

Here at The HenCam I’ve been hard at work updating our cameras. The new OutsideCam is running well. But BarnCam… BarnCam was originally installed back in April 2011 before the Gems arrived:

 

It was fun to watch when the Gems were first hatched:

 

BarnCam worked well for several years, but it hasn’t survived all the abuse that chickens can dish out:

 

The old original BarnCam has been retired. Terry caught me hard at work building the new improved BarnCam:

 

And it’s finally finished! Here’s what the new installation looks like:

 

This is not just any camera though. This one has a special additional feature—a microphone! Yes, now you can not only see the hens, but hear them too!

To turn on the sound, move your mouse over the BarnCam display to bring up the control bar:

 

Now move your mouse over to the speaker icon, then click on the slider and raise the volume control up:

 

That’s it! You should hear the hens chortling away.

Occasionally we may turn off the audio, using this handy MUTE switch installed in the barn:

Terry says I might use this when I need to swear at the goats.

Here in the United States you are quite within your rights to broadcast video of whoever may walk across your yard. But it so happens that broadcasting audio is illegal (see 18 USC Chapter 119). However there cannot be an expectation of privacy if there are public signs posted indicating the communication is being monitored. So I’ve put up signs around the yard:

  

 

And just to be sure, I put a sign on the microphone itself, for the hens to read:

I don’t think they will mind, do you?

Note from Terry: Today is Steve’s birthday. I’m making him chocolate pudding. (The recipe requires 6 egg yolks, thanks, Girls!) If you’d like, leave birthday greetings in the comments. The more, the merrier!

I thought that you might like to hear updates on some of the animals.

Tonka had five weeks off to recover from a muscle pull in his shoulder. I wasn’t in a rush. I’d rather use rest than drugs. He’s 100% sound now. My instructor has given me a good rule of thumb – for every week off due to injury, expect to take two weeks of riding work to get back to where you were. So, we have over two months to get back into shape. Lucky for both of us, this is the prime season for trail riding. No bugs. Cool temps. Good footing. We’re heading out tomorrow for a long walk in the woods.

(Here’s Tonka waiting for supper. As you can see, he hasn’t lost any of his gleam or vigor.)

 

Lily has adjusted to life with a painful and mostly useless rear leg joint. She’s still my shadow, but there’s a lot more lying down on the job. Much time is spent under my desk, where she gives herself permission to nap – not only is the leg injuring tiring, but she’s an old dog who needs to rest – so I’m glad to see her there (and hear her nose whistles.)

 

Lily also goes out on the porch, where she remains vigilant from her comfy bed.

 

So far, her other three legs are keeping her steady. I try to limit her activity so that they stay that way, but, well, she’s Lily.

The second day after the treatment with ivermectin, the bot fly larvae were vanquished and Caper’s nose was on the mend. He says that it’s all better and that soapy wet washcloths are no longer necessary. If you have a goat that likes to be cleaned up and fussed over, let me know about it. Mine don’t!

 

Twiggy took a one week break from laying. I thought she might molt, but she hasn’t. She’s back to leaving her large white eggs in the nesting box, however, now it’s every other day, not daily. Still, she appears fine and none of the Gems bother her. I still don’t know why the other flock turned on her.

 

Pearl, who molted early and dramatically, has grown in tight feathers (see along her back and base of her wing), which contrast with the fluffy older feathers that have yet to drop. I’ll continue to see the molt in members of the flock, at various stages, through November.

 

Lastly in this update is Jasper. She’s molted, but she’ll never look good. As a chick she encouraged the other hens to pick at and eat her tail feathers. Why is a mystery. This is why it’s so important to know your birds. To a visitor, she looks awful, but it’s normal for her. Jasper will never win a beauty contest, but she doesn’t care, and I won’t either.

Today is Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year. Last night we celebrated by having a dinner with friends. I baked challah (the recipe is in

)

 

and there was juice squeezed from grapes from my vines.

 

The Jewish New Year arrives when the seasons change. It does feel as if the year is over. The ferns in the front woodland are fading.

 

There is a hint of yellow in the trees.

 

A few bright maple leaves float to the ground.

 

Although most flowers have died off, goldenrod sustains nectar-needing insects. (Look closely, there are two.)

 

As much as I don’t want summer to fade away, September and October are so gloriously beautiful that I don’t see this season as a dying back, rather it’s a thoughtful pause and time for rejuvenation.

Scooter is not so philosophical. He sprawls out in the hot sun, in denial of the winter to come.

Do not, when going into keeping farm animals in your backyard, underestimate the yuck factor. The many rah-rah boosters of sustainability and those who espouse the glories of raising your own food and composting waste downplay how untidy things really are. Chicken poop stinks. Goats, even small ones, pee… everywhere. Chickens have lice crawling on their skin. Animals shed and hair flies. Puddles in an animal pen are often nasty stews of muck.

Sometimes, you find things even yuckier than the usual day-today messiness.

There’s no break from the care. While I was in Italy, I left the critters under Steve’s capable hands. When I came home he said that Caper had cut his nose and that I should have a look.

 

I washed it with warm soapy water and dabbed it with

and determined that it wasn’t just a wound. I consulted a friend who is far more experienced with goats than I, and my suspicions were confirmed. Bot fly larvae, specific to goats and sheep, had burrowed under Caper’s skin. Yuck.

I consulted with my veterinarian who said that he didn’t appear to need a shot of penicillin, but that I should worm the goats with ivermectin. This anthelmintic comes in a paste form, in a syringe that you squirt into the goat’s mouth. Sorry, I have no photos, as I was squeezing and Steve was straddling Caper, (trying) to hold him still.

It’s not good to worm goats on a regular basis. Pasture management and keeping them healthy help to keep the parasite loads down. However, I do send fecal samples to the vet yearly to ensure that parasites haven’t gotten out of hand. Only once did we need to worm. So, it’s been a few years, and since Caper needed the ivermectin dose, I did Pip, too.

Caper’s nose is still swollen, but there’s no discharge and he isn’t rubbing it raw.

 

It is icky, but that’s the norm with animal keeping. There’s always something.

 

 

 

I’ll be spending a moment in silence this 9/11. I hope that you will, too.