Candy’s throne. From here she surveys her kingdom. I’m thinking that when the snow is gone, I’ll need to build her a new seat of power. Suggestions?

I heard this yesterday.

It’s sunny! It’s above freezing! Enough snow has melted in the back meadow that I was able to move the goats’ electric fence (note to self, bring in the fence before the first snowfall or you might not be able to for the rest of the winter), get the gate open, and let them out. They tippy-toed past the snow and trotted into the meadow.

There’s no grass to eat, but Pip did find a downed pine branch to nibble on. New places (or old places they haven’t been for awhile) make goats skittish, so they explored, then got the wind under their tails and galloped back to the barn. They repeated this a couple of times, until, full and exhausted, they settled onto their big, flat warm rock in the paddock to chew their cuds.

Meanwhile, for the first time since November, there was enough bare ground around the coops that I could let the chickens out of their pens.

The girls from the big barn headed down the path to the HenCam barn.

The two flocks rarely mingle, even when they are all outside free-ranging. I’d like them to meet and greet, because my plan is that in a few weeks I’m going to house everyone in the HenCam barn. The big barn will then become the home of the new chicks (arriving end of April.) First, though, the barn will get a thorough cleaning, a vacuuming and a scrubbing. I’ll even dig up the packed dirt in the yard and plant grass. I want it to have two months of rest before the chicks move in.

So, I was happy to see the old girls heading over to the HenCam barn. They can see that run from theirs, and sure they’ve been missing the good stuff, they explored the run. The seven hens who live there came back in, too. They eyeballed each other. Buffy cackled. It would have been peaceful except for the two trouble makers – Lulu and Maizie. They puffed up, they banged chests, they went for each other’s combs. I picked up one, and then the other. Set them down. Lulu remained huffy. Maizie had had enough. She headed back to the calm safety of the big barn.

When Maizie was younger, she was the hen that went for the kill. It was impossible to add new chickens to her flock. She would jump on a hen, pin her down, and peck at her head. When the Polish hens first arrived, I tried adding them to Maizie’s group, but she’d run after them and beat them up. Maizie ignored their submissive signs and never let up. Luckily, I have two coops, and was able to move the Polish into the a barn where they were accepted. (Polish are notoriously hard to integrate into a flock. Their top knots are to chickens like a red flag to a bull. See here about the duct tape protective hats I made.) I did manage to add the Golden Comets to Maizie’s flock, but that took weeks of providing them with hiding spots and separate roosts. I was close to deciding to cull Maizie – I don’t like aggressive hens – but I was able keep everyone safe and keep her. Once things settled down, you’d never know that she is territorial.

I’m optimistic that after a few more interactions, that Lulu and Maizie will figure out how to leave each other alone. They’re too old for this nonsense.

There’s still plenty of snow on the ground.

But the sun is shining through the windows of the barns. I used vinegar and water and spritzed off a winter’s worth of dust off of the glass.

I also raked the chicken pens and put the mucky straw into the compost. This exposed several inches of ice. If I left the bedding on top, it would insulate the ice (like an old-fashioned ice-house) and it wouldn’t melt until April. A two-foot high pile of snow remains in the run. It’s Candy’s mountain, but I’m hoping that will melt, too. We’re in for quite a mud season.

I raked wet and frozen leaves away from the fence, and look what was there. Grass! It’s green! Coco spied it and had a taste.

The pond is finally free of it’s lid of ice and the Beast has shown herself. I’m glad she survived this winter.

The goats have gotten the spring wind under their tails and were galloping about – well, doing the best they could what with their big bellies and not having had exercise for months. They’re celebrating the sunshine and open space with much head-butting.

My morning chores and a bit of spring clean-up took less than an hour, but the sun and the work and the cheery nature of my animals, and the feel of a warm wind makes me optimistic. The here and now of a sunny barnyard does that. Much needed after hearing the news out of Japan. Much needed most everyday. My next task today is to shovel snow off of my cold frames. I’d like to plant kale.

As we all know, there’s an obesity epidemic, and it’s not just affecting people. Our pets are suffering, too. It’s not simply a matter of aesthetics – it’s a matter of health. We’ve all seen the waddling beagle who can no longer run and play, and the fat cat on youTube that people laugh at, but is bound for a short life. We indulge and we feed to excess, thinking that it’s a loving act. It’s not.

A few months ago I heard from a woman (let’s call her “Bess”) who found a lone, white hen wandering the neighborhood. Bess and her husband love animals, and have cats and dogs, and so brought the hen home and it became a doted on pet. A couple of months ago she emailed me because the hen had some sort of respiratory ailment. She put it on a course of antibiotics (a default when a hen is wheezing) but after 10 days the chicken was no better. Some time later, Bess took her hen to a vet who prescribed another round of antibiotics. Again, no improvement. So, back to the vet they went for a stool sample and check-up.

Bess emailed me to say that her chicken was weighed at the vet’s office, that she came in at 14.6 pounds, and asked if the hen was overweight.

The average hen weighs 6 pounds, 8 would be quite large. 14.6? !!! No wonder the poor hen can’t breathe. Her lungs are surrounded by fat.

Why didn’t the vet notice? Several trips to the vet’s office, and the hen’s weight was never mentioned. It shows you how little vets know about chickens.

Bess was loving and feeding her hen to death. She’d heard that corn will keep a hen warm in the winter, and gave it free choice. Since the hen had no competition from a flock for food, she was eating constantly. This is what the hen looks like.

I think she’s a Leghorn, which is a slender, active breed. I could be wrong. It’s hard to tell. I’m thinking perhaps I’ll call it a new breed, the “Sumo Wrestler Rock.”

My old poultry books warn against letting hens get overweight because, not only was in not economical to overfeed, but excess fat interfered with laying. I don’t think that they ever imagined a hen getting this big.

I’ve recommended that Bess feed chopped greens in the morning, and a handful of laying hen pellets in the afternoon. No scratch corn! I think there will be a marked improvement soon.

Having seen this, perhaps my readers will take a clear-eyed view of their own flocks. We all love to see plump hens with fluffy bottoms. But, for the hens’ health, they shouldn’t be waddling like ducks or have difficulty breathing. It’s true for people and for chickens -we should all eat more vegetables and go easy on the candy.