The goats’ fecal test came back positive for pole worm. Keeping internal parasites at bay is very difficult. It’s not simply a matter of dosing them with chemicals, which, although is sometimes necessary, is not effective without careful management of the environment as well. I’m not an experienced goat keeper, and I’ve been relying on the wisdom of people like my friend, Sarah, at Cudzoo Farm (her goatmilk soaps, by the way, are absolutely wonderful and are for sale on line.)

In order to give the right dose of anthelmintic, I needed to weigh the boys. My goats are Nigerian Dwarf Dairy Goats. There’s a reason that the word dwarf is in their name. They’re supposed to be small. It’s one reason why I fell in love with them at the fair four years ago. Such adorable, petite, hoofed and furry animals! But, somehow, my goaties didn’t seem so small when I thought about weighing them.

I got out the bathroom scale and asked Steve for help. He talked to Caper about what he was about to do.

That didn’t make it any easier.

Picking up Pip was only slightly less awkward.

Caper weighs 96 pounds. Pip weighs 91.

The ideal weight for a Nigerian Dwarf Dairy Goat is 75 pounds. Are my goat boys really that overly tubby?

The ideal height for for this breed is no more than 19 inches, although the bucks can be 23 inches tall.

Caper is 23 inches tall. And big-boned. Yes, that’s it. My boys are tall and have large, sturdy frames. Pip and Caper assure me that there is no reason, no reason at all, to cut back on their daily ration of hay.

Most chickens, whether they’re fluffy-bottomed Orpingtons or sleek Welsummers, are winter hardy. As long as you give them shelter out of the wind, a draft-free coop at night, and a constant supply of fresh water, they can ride out snowstorms, deep-freezes and whatever else winter throws their way.

Although you might think that  you’re being kind and indulgent by hanging a heat lamp, you’re actually doing your hens a disservice. Chickens stay warm by fluffing up and trapping air between their feathers. They’re essentially wearing insulated down coats. When they stand under a heat lamp they stop fluffing. Do you know how nice it is on a cold winter day to warm up by a fire? Now think about how hard it is to move away from the hearth and how chilled you feel when you do. A chicken goes through exactly the same thing when stepping away from a heat lamp. She won’t want to. So she’ll stay still and won’t eat or drink or get the exercise that she needs. When she does move out from under the lamp, she won’t be fluffed up and so she won’t be warm. It’s better for a hen to keep herself cozy in her coat than to go from under a lamp to the cold outside of it’s warm glow.

However, a few types of chickens have unusual feathers and so do require extra winter care. Years ago I had a sweet little Silkie hen. She died one winter and I’d always assumed it was because I didn’t provide her with heat. There were experienced breeders of Silkies at the poultry show this past weekend I made a point of talking to several. I found out that I was wrong about the heat, but not wrong that Silkies require special winter care.

Despite feathers that look like fur,

and twisted feathers like those on this Bantam Frizzle Polish,

these birds don’t need heat. In fact, the breeders that I talked to had the same objections to heat lamps that I do. What these fancy chickens do need is to stay dry. Water rolls off of regular feathers. The outer “hard” feathers on most chickens repel water like a rain slicker. But Silkies have no protection against the damp. In the rain they become soggy sponges. Just standing in mud can kill them. Frizzles, too, can’t handle rain, as it drips between their feathers and soaks their skin. Polish, with their huge top-knots end up with sodden heads. Combine wet hens with cold temperatures, and you end up with sick chickens and death. The breeders of the fancy birds that I talked with said that they keep their stock indoors during the winter. They only allow them outside when the ground is dry and the sky is clear. Wind is also a concern. Without sturdy outer feathers to block cold gusts, these fancy chickens get chilled to the bone. Outside areas require wind breaks (a wall of straw bales works fine.)

All of these very experienced chicken keepers talked about how important clean, dry and well-ventilated coops are. Damp air must have a way up and out. Novices make the mistake of battening down their coops so tightly that there is no air flow. Manure is 75% water, and without good ventilation that water, and the ammonia from the breakdown of nitrogen in the manure, will cause respiratory disease. This is why I keep the coop clean. It’s why I installed a cupola in the roof of the little barn a couple of years ago. What a difference that made! No longer do the insides of the windows ice up.

I don’t keep Silkies because I don’t have a separate area for housing them indoors during the winter. I do have Polish. They’re not show birds and so I give them a winter haircut. Tina and Siouxsie got theirs the other day. They’re still growing in new feathers, so they look rather silly. But their heads are dry and they can see where they’re going. We’re ready for winter. For more about winter care and feeding of chickens, read my FAQ.

I spent a few enjoyable hours at the Boston Poultry Exposition on Saturday.

The organizers did a superb job of set-up; they decorated the rows with straw bales, grasses and flowers, and there was even a turkey ice sculpture. But, the stars were the animals.

I was smitten with the soft and elegant coloring of this silver ducking Old English Game pullet.

I liked this pullet’s alert expression.

This Houdan was calm and serious.

The roosters had attitude. This one rocked a beard, too.

Other faces were not so pretty, but endearing for their own reasons!

I talked with the geese.

I also talked with some of the experienced exhibitors and learned quite a bit. I’ll be sharing that with you in my next post.

All summer I complained about my Buff Orpingtons. I have three, Amber, Beryl and Topaz. People get Orpingtons because of their calm demeanor and the large brown eggs that they lay. Besides, they’re pretty, in a way that Golden Retrievers are – blond and solid with thick coats. But (and this is the big “but”) Orpingtons go broody, and Beryl and Topaz spent much of the summer not at all calm and not providing me with large brown eggs. They huffed up. They rasped threats. They didn’t lay. I’d put them in the anti-broody pen which would break them of the spell, and they’d lay an egg or two, but then go back to being broody. I’d had it with them! I even offered Beryl and Topaz for sale on FaceBook. I was honest and described them as “useless broody hens” so it was no surprise that there were no takers.

Right now the hens are molting and so they’re not laying. Almost all of my hens look like Ruby. Just look at this tailless mess of loose feathers!

But, the golden girls have nary a feather out of place.

What’s more astonishing is that after an unproductive summer, they’re laying.

My egg basket would be almost empty if not for the Buff Orpingtons.

And so I am offering an apology to the Orps. I’m sorry that I complained about your moody, broody summer behavior. I didn’t realize that it was setting you up to be the early winter laying stars.

On a side note, Opal, my Delaware, laid all the way through the summer and continues to lay now. She’s my first Delaware. I love her steady and friendly personality. Is she true to type? Does anyone else have Delawares?

Superstorm Sandy blew in on Sunday. It rained. Scooter did not want to go outside.

It kept raining. The wind picked up. Trees swayed. Leaves came down. The pond filled to the top but didn’t overflow.

The animals were snug and secure in the barns.

The Gems ate their pumpkin

and took dust baths.

They even laid eggs.

We were snug and secure inside the house. The power went out. We played a board game.

Cable, internet and our telephone landline went down. We listened to the news on some very old technology.

We were surprised when the power came back on late Monday night (two days later 30% of my little town was still without electricity.) But, we still didn’t have internet.

In the morning we opened up the barns. The animals were not happy about the mud, but they were pleased to be out.

We surveyed the damage. Steve cleared the pond of leaves.

One tree was down. We’d debated before the storm whether we should take down the goat fence. Lesson learned.

For now the goat pasture is a tad smaller. They don’t mind. We gave the goats a big branch, which they are eating,

and using as a scratching post,

and butting heads over.

Meanwhile, Candy says that she’ll survey her realm from her dry hutch.

Not far down my street there are trees leaning precariously over power lines. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have another power outage. But, that’s not a big deal. My heart goes out to those who truly suffered during this storm. I grew up near the Jersey shore and it was like watching parts of my childhood washed away.