I call the flock of hens that you see on the BarnCam the Gems, because they are named after rocks (Etheldred honors a pioneering female geologist.) They arrived in a cardboard box, through the mail, from Meyer Hatchery in April of 2011.

The fuzzy chick phase lasts but a short couple of weeks.

By late summer of 2011, the Gems were laying. They’ve now gone through two molts.

The Gems still look good.

Pearl is in all of her fluffy cochin glory.

Despite losing her tail to feather picking, and having a rough-looking rump, Jasper continues to be friendly, alert and active. (All of you with feather picking in your flock, take heart! Sometimes the hen just doesn’t care.)

Amber continues to be the perfect Buff Orpington. She has all of their good traits, but she never goes broody.

The Gems continue to lay eggs.

Despite their outward glossy and healthy appearance, the Gems are old.

It’s hard to accept that the normal-looking hens in your flock are old, but by the age of three they are. Don’t believe all of the backyard chicken boosterism that claims that you’ll have hens living and laying for a decade. A rare bird might, but most won’t. At three, laying hens are past their prime. It’s true that many of your hens will keep laying, albeit at a reduced rate. But, it’s not just that the hen is producing fewer eggs, it’s also that they have difficulty constructing sturdy shells and laying without issues. It takes a lot for a chicken to metabolize nutrients from feed and turn it into eggs. By their third laying season, their nutritional tracts aren’t up to the job. Sometimes, internal organs are tumorous. Sometimes, they’ve just not as efficient at digestion.

Early this springtime, there were days when I collected ten eggs from this group of eleven birds. But, lately, that number has halved. It’s not just the rate of laying that has slowed. Egg laying has become problematic for some of the girls. Egg shells are thinner. Some are so fragile that they break, and then the hens eat them. Once in awhile an egg is laid that is as soft as a water balloon. These sorts of glitches lead to bigger problems. The chickens strain to lay rubbery eggs. An egg might break inside of the hen. Eggs might back up in the tract and they become impacted, or the hen will become an internal layer. I’ve seen all of these problems, and I’ve confirmed them by doing necropsies after death.

If I was a “real” farmer, this flock would be gone. The shells would be too thin to pack in cartons without cracking. The margin for making a profit would disappear. But, I’m not a farmer. I have hens in my backyard that I’ve gotten to know. I can afford to keep them around. Because I know what’s going on with the Gems, I can do a few things to make egg laying easier for them.

An optimal diet for the older hen is essential. They need chicken grit – yes, you have to spend $10 on a bag of rocks. Without grit of the right size and type, they can’t grind food up in their gizzards. They need oyster shell, offered free choice. (I use a rabbit food dispenser.) Most importantly, they can no longer eat anything and turn around and make eggs. They can no longer be given all of your kitchen scraps. No more bread and pasta. No empty calories. Forgo the scratch corn, too. They should fill up on pellets before being given healthy treats such as greens and watermelon. However, finding goodies by free-ranging on your lawn and garden is still a good thing.

I’m now treating my healthy-looking Gems as the old girls that they are. Careful management will allow them to lay eggs as sturdy as they can make them. Some hens will sail through the next few years. I hope that most of them do. But, I expect that I’ll see difficulties in the months to come. This is as much a part of chicken keeping as is being smitten by those day-old chicks. This is not depressing. Being realistic about your animals’ lives allows you to enjoy them for who and what they are and to care for them appropriately. Meanwhile, it’s a beautiful day and I need to get into the garden. The hens are ready to help with the bug control and turf turning, and I look forward to their company.

I’m often asked, Do Chickens and dogs get along?

As with so many questions, the answer is, It depends.

Chickens are prey animals. Everyone, from the hawks in the sky, to foxes lurking in the woods, want to eat them. Dogs are predators. Right there, you have a problem. Chickens startle easily. They dash and dart. These are exactly the motions that set a dog into hunting mode. That said, not all dogs are a physical threat to your chickens. What sort of dog do you have?

Do you have a large, athletic dog? Or a little couch potato? I have both.

Scooter is not much of a threat to anything, not even a tennis ball. He would prefer to be curled up in the sun. Still, he is a dog, and despite his ridiculous cuteness, he remains a predator at heart. He could harass the chickens, even a little dog can stress out your flock. Then again, they could harass him! If Scooter did grab a hen, his gnarly undershot teeth wouldn’t do much damage.

On the other hand, Lily dog is always on high alert. In all likelihood, in her first few months of life as an ignored puppy on a farm, she learned to hunt and eat rabbits and such. Added to that history is her highly reactive temperament. When she sees movement, she chases. She tears off like a streak first, and thinks later. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. The local coyotes, herons, hawks, raccoons (and the list goes on) stay clear of our backyard. But, a dog with such a strong prey drive can’t always distinguish between a chicken scratching in the woods and a squirrel.

Some big dogs are fine with chickens. My late, great Nimbus, was the ideal dog to have with hens. Nimbus was likely an Australian sheepdog and husky mix. She had a very strong prey drive, but she also had the protective sensibility of a herding dog. I owned her for a few years before getting chickens. Once the hens were installed in the backyard, I told Nimbus that they were not toys. All I had to do was say, uh-uh when she tensed to chase or try to play with them. Nimbus got it immediately, and she understood her role. In fact, I’d let the flock free-range with Nimbus there to protect them. The biggest issue that I had with her was that she’d follow the hens and eat their poop. Dogs love chicken manure. They eat it and they roll in it. It’s disgusting. It’s stinky. If that’s too much for you to deal with, don’t worry about how to let your dog mingle with your hens. Keep them separate!

Lily is another story. I knew that with her that I’d have to do systematic and on-going training. I use positive reinforcement to teach Lily that chickens are to be left alone. This is the opposite of what some trainers advocate, called aversion training, which is, when a dog goes after a hen, you yell, yank and punish. That theory holds that the dog associates the chickens with bad things happening to him, and so the dog will avoid the hens. Punishment like that works once. Or twice. The behavior you don’t want immediately stops. With some dogs, that’s enough, and they decide the chickens aren’t worth the trouble. But, for most dogs, and especially for reactive dogs like Lily, that sort of aversion training not only doesn’t work longterm, but it also causes issues that are lasting and damaging to your relationship with your dog.

Dogs, when yelled at and yanked, will build up a tolerance for punishment. So, each time the dog misbehaves, the owner has to escalate to get the desired response. Soon, the owner is physically abusing her dog, and the dog associates not only the chickens with punishment, but the handler as well. At some point that sort of dominance training creates a backlash from the dog. Fear-based aggression ensues. Or the dog shuts down, fearful of doing anything wrong at all. That might look like obedience, but it is not (you see this “learned helplessness” a lot with horses trained in so-called natural horsemanship – more on that another day!)

A better way to train a dog to leave the chickens alone is to reward him for the behavior that you want. Imagine what the perfect scenario is – perhaps your dog lying quietly while the hens mill around. Then, train for that. What’s the first step? Reward for when your dog (on a leash, so he can only do the right thing) is calmly looking at the chickens. If your dog can only be calm from fifty feet away on the porch, then start there. Slowly, day after day, get closer to the flock, all the while rewarding for quiet and relaxed behavior. This sounds like it will take ages, and it does take attention and work, but the end result will happen more quickly than you think. Soon enough your dog will be calm around your hens.

Then again, you might have a Lily. Lily is a very challenging dog to train because of her innate reactive nature. I’ve taught her not to chase the hens from the other side of the fence. I’ve trained a wait! so if she does take off after a stray hen, I can (usually) stop her in her tracks. But I’d never trust her 100% out with free-ranging hens. It’s just not worth the risk.

So, when my dogs are out, my hens are in.

And vice versa.

Note: I’ve enrolled in the Karen Pryor Academy Dog Trainer Professional course. It starts in June. What I’ve talked about here is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to training theory and knowledge, and is applicable not only to dogs, but to horses and people as well. I’m looking forward to sharing what I learn with you here on this blog, and by next summer I’ll be available for training consultations.

I have quite a number of events coming up, and I hope to see you at one or more of them.

This weekend, on Saturday, is a Chicken Keeping Workshop. There’s still plenty of space so do sign up. The photo below is from the Advanced Chicken Keeping Class held a week ago. Notice the cookies. I’ll be baking again on Friday!

On June 11, I’m really looking forward to being at one of my favorite places – The Tower Hill Botanic Garden in Boylston, MA. I’ll be doing a talk and book signing in the Limonaia, which is likely to be the most fragrant and beautiful space that I’ve ever done a program in. That event is free with the price of admission, so come early and tour the grounds. Even better, walk the gardens and then join me for dinner at the Twigs Cafe! I’ve reserved a table, so email me to let me know if you’d like to join us.

Speaking of gardens, I’ve added a new program this summer – A HenCam Garden Party. It will take place here at Little Pond Farm on July 12. If you’ve ever wished for a party where people talked about their chickens (instead of children, politics, etc.) then this is the event to come to! I’ll give a short presentation on how to incorporate a flock into a landscape, and the remainder of the afternoon will be spent relaxing by watching the Beast and hens, scratching the goats, wandering the gardens, and being able to chat about your own hens with others who get it. A full description and signup is on my Events Page.

Amber is waiting to welcome you to the party!

There’s more on my schedule – take a look at the Events Page for the full listing. I hope to see you soon!

A lot of poultry books and backyard chicken enthusiasts on the web make it sound as if all you need is a small box in which to house your hens. Their advice isn’t new. I have a pamphlet from the 1920s illustrating how to make a chicken coop from a piano crate (back then upright pianos were wildly popular and their shipping containers were as prevalent as pallets are now.) However, in the past, it was understood that these coops were designed for keeping chickens through one laying season, and then they were harvested for meat. If you want to keep your chickens healthy and content for any longer than that you’ll need to install a coop of a better design.

Most modern coops are too small, and have too few windows. Sunlight is essential for the well-being of your hens. But more on those criteria in another post! This one is about ventilation, which is essential to prevent respiratory disease and for keeping your flock healthy. After this past winter of the polar vortex, many people discovered just how inadequate their coops were. Flocks that never before got frost bite saw damaged combs. In every case that I heard of, the frozen combs could be linked back to inadequate ventilation.

Chicken manure is 75 to 80% moisture. Additionally, when chickens breathe, they expel moist air. Damp air holds germs and viruses and causes respiratory ailments. Additionally, when manure breaks down, ammonia fumes are released, which, when breathed by chickens (and humans) can cause respiratory distress. We’re well aware of this in the summer, when the coop smells bad and the air feels humid. But, in the winter, most chicken keepers don’t worry about damp air because the coop feels dry when the weather is frigid. Although the air doesn’t feel heavy, it has its own problems.  It sounds counter-intuitive but when air is cold, it can’t hold moisture, and so the damp stays where it is near the floor, and doesn’t move with the air out through the vents. Large-scale poultry operations understand the science of air flow.This is one reason that commercial barns are heated – to move the moist air out. For many reasons, I don’t like heat in the coop. Instead, I want a coop designed to be healthy for my hens regardless of the weather.

In the winter, not only is the air not efficiently carrying moisture out, but often people make the mistake of closing vents to keep the coop warmer. (Commercial operators heat the air, but they also keep the vents open!) Sometimes the coops are so badly designed that vents/windows must be closed during inclement weather. Additionally, I’ve seen coops so low to the ground that they get covered in snow, effectively insulating them, blocking air exits, and preventing any ventilation. Your coop must have ventilation that can stay open, even in the worst of storms and in below-freezing temperatures. Yet, at the same time, your coop shouldn’t be drafty. Getting this balance right is the trick.

There’s a reason that old barns have cupolas – they’re perfectly designed for year round ventilation. My Little Barn has one. That charming cap on the roof is actually a working vent that pulls air up and out. It keeps the coop cooler in the summer, and air circulating in the winter. Fresh air comes in through the pop-door and goes up and out through the cupola.

But, in the winter, knowing that the poop is holding onto its moisture, I also keep the barn skipped out (a nice horse management term for removing manure frequently.) Only during blowing snowstorms do I close the pop-door. Otherwise, it stays open, even during the coldest of days, to bring fresh air in. (I do lock it closed at night to keep predators out.)

Vents along eaves rarely move enough air. Some small coops have ridged roofs, which supposedly provide for plenty of ventilation. (This coop was found on PInterest; there was no link.)

However, I know someone who built a coop similar to this and this past winter her hens had frostbite. The problem here is that there isn’t enough headroom. The chickens roost right near the ceiling, right next to the venting. Cold air flows right over their combs. I wouldn’t be surprised if, at night, with the pop-door closed, that air flowed in instead of out.

On the other side of the weather spectrum, a chicken keeper has to worry about heat, which is far more dangerous to your birds’ health than cold. However, once again, good ventilation can go a long way to prevent problems. It was in the 90s the day that we installed the cupola in the Little Barn, and as soon as the hole was cut into the roof, the temperature inside of the coop dropped 20 degrees. If possible, have cross-ventilation. Windows are good. For those days when the it’s brutally hot and humid, I run a box fan to move the air. If in doubt, put a thermometer inside of the coop. Those small box coops, sited in the sun, can become ovens without you realizing it.

So, knowing all of this science of moisture transfer, and damp manure, what should a small coop look like? I have a FAQ with coop design criteria here. For ventilation, and for many other reasons (including behavior issues), the best coops have a minimum of 4 square feet per hen (not including nesting boxes if they’re built into the floor, nor outside pen space.) They should have windows that let in plenty of sunshine. Roosts need to be a good 18 inches or more up off of the floor – I prefer a ladder roost that is several feet high. Air space is as important as floor space!  If the roof has a vent like the one pictured above, it shouldn’t be right at the top of the roost, but well above the sleeping hens’ heads.

Too often, people like the idea of having the smallest coop possible. When planning shelter for your chickens, reverse that idea. In the case of hen housing, bigger is better, Still, I understand about space constraints and have an annotated Pinterest page with small coop ideas.

If you’ve had problems with ventilation, let me know. If you’ve solved those problems, I really want to hear about it!

The nesting boxes are clean and inviting. The hens are trained to roost and not sleep where they lay. And yet, even so, once  in awhile I see this.

An egg on the floor. Often, it’s under the roost. I know it wasn’t laid when the hens were sleeping. First of all, hens don’t lay eggs at night. Secondly, there’s no way an egg could survive intact from a drop from the top bar of the roost.

This is something that you want to keep to a minimum. This photo shows three days of manure accumulation. An egg sitting in those feces is more susceptible to picking up bacteria than one laid in a dry and clean nest. It’s also liable to be stepped on and broken, and then it will be eaten by the hens, and then they’ll learn to peck at and eat eggs. Egg laying on the floor of the coop (or sometimes, you’ll see an egg outside in the dirt) is something that you want to prevent. To do that, it helps to know why this is happening. Like so much with hen keeping, that comes down to experience, knowing your flock, and guesswork.

The first thing to ask yourself is: are the nesting boxes still inviting? As the seasons change and the light comes into the coop at a different angle, all of a sudden they might be too bright. Or, is there a predator keeping the hens out of the nesting boxes? I’ve heard of both snakes and opossums moving in. None of those possibilities are the case in my barn. Then, take awhile to observe your birds. Is someone sick? Has the flock dynamic changed so that a hen isn’t feeling welcome in the boxes? All of my hens are fine. Take a look at the egg. Is there something off about it? When a hen lays a thin-shelled or soft egg, it can be difficult for her to push it out. She’s uncomfortable, and I’ve seen hens walk around until finally able to lay. The eggs that I’ve recently found on the floor are solid, but I’ve noticed that these eggs tend to have a dull texture, as if they have no bloom (which is a protein coating that give the egg its shine and protects it from germs.). The bloom makes the egg very smooth and tough and eases laying. Without that, perhaps the hen had a difficult time laying and was straining too hard to stay put in the nesting box.

Although thin-shelled eggs are often due to diet or old age (or both) that’s not the case with my flock. In fact, the eleven hens in the Big Barn have been high producers of quality eggs. I’ve been collecting anywhere from seven to ten eggs daily from them. Because it takes more than twenty-four hours to lay an egg (upwards of twenty-six or more), over the course of the week, the hens lay later and later in the day, until they are laying an hour or so before dusk. Usually what happens is when the cycle gets too late in the evening, then the hen skips that day, and then lays first thing in the morning. Sometimes though, she gets on the roost and realizes that she can’t wait, jumps down, lays her egg, and hops back up and goes to sleep. Sometimes she makes it through the night and as soon as she wakes up, she lays her egg right when she hits the ground. This is my best guess for why I’ve found an egg now and then on the floor of the coop. But I could be wrong. I found the remnants of a broken soft-shelled egg in the nesting box this morning. I’ll be keeping an eye on things.