Lily sleeps in a crate. If let loose in the house, she paces to protect us from burglars, raccoons, distant trucks, falling branches and coyotes. No one gets any sleep. When Scooter was little, he slept in a crate, too. Then he told us that there was absolutely no way that he was going to continue to sleep in that box. Not that he wanted to be a watchdog; he wanted the cozy comfort of the couch by the fireplace.

He sleeps through everyone waking up, having breakfast, and the boy catching the school bus. Lily goes outside and checks the perimeter of the property. Scooter sleeps.

While I work at my desk, Lily watches out the window. She checks for UPS trucks, loose dogs, and hawks. Scooter comes upstairs. He doesn’t check for anything.

Finally, he deigns to go outside. He pees. It’s cold. His feet are wet.

He comes back in. Scooter has a snack. He’d prefer steak but he gets kibble.

Scooter goes back to sleep. This time he is on the living room couch.

I take him for a walk. He struts. He prances. He hates his harness.

We come home and he goes back to sleep.

Sometimes in the afternoon, he gets the zoomies and the two dogs play. But if anyone should be on the couch watching television, he drops everything and plasters himself to their side.

Around eleven pm, when we are all either in bed or heading there, Scooter decides that we should be rolling his ball down the hall to chase. Play time! Lily ignores him. I ignore him. Scooter gives up. He makes a big scene of arranging his blanket just so. He goes to sleep. Goodnight, Scooter.

I started this week doing the quintessential New England activity. A friend came over and taught me how to make Concord grape jelly. I live next door to the town of Concord, where that variety of grape was invented and so named, but, this is the first time I’ve ever made jelly, or canned anything! It’s now cranberry season and I have a basket of local pears on my kitchen counter. I’m thinking that will be a good combination. Have you canned anything this week?

I bought a huge 48 star flag at a country auction. After washing and airing it out, I hung it in the the hallway. It will remain there long after this drawn-out election season is over.

We were invited to a neighbor’s annual cider pressing and pig roast. We drank his homemade hard cider and ate and ate. I brought popovers. I baked them in a sunflower patterned muffin tin. Look how charming they came out!

The Gems finished their pumpkin.

Buffy rebounded from her last health crisis. She’s behaving like her old self and she’s part of the flock. But I notice her having difficulty getting up on the roost at night. I think that this will be her last winter. Of course, I’ve said that before and she’s proved me wrong. Meanwhile, Betsy is molting. Her tail is gone. New feathers are erupting on her neck. She’s feeling quite sorry for herself.

The weather was glorious. Stepping outside was like stepping into a gem-studded kaleidoscope.

At the end of the week the weather took a turn towards winter. Freezing temperatures were predicted for Friday night. I harvested the last of the green beans and gave the vines to the goats and chickens. I brought in the lone, small zucchini and a few tiny peppers. The ground was white in the morning. The zinnias died.

But a few raspberries remain.

Today it has warmed up a tad. It’s raining. This is the most dangerous time of year for chickens – much more so than when it is dry and freezing. They get wet and cold and that brings on respiratory disease. There’s mud so they can’t dust bathe (which is why I give mine a tub with sand and food-grade DE in their run.) Most of the hens are molting. Florence looks like a discarded feather duster. Here she is eating the green bean vines in the compost pile.

Not everyone is molting. Amber, the I never go broody Orpington, continues to lay!

Candy is waiting out the weather. She’s already wearing her thick fur coat. She knows that winter, her favorite season, is right around the corner.

I’ve lived in New England for over thirty years, and so I’ve seen the seasons come and go. I’ve seen the leaves change. I go through my days saying, “oh, pretty” and then moving along. Yet every October there’s one day that stops me in my tracks. The beauty of it all can not be ignored. It is so gorgeous that it affects me physically, like a musical passage that goes straight from your ears into your core. Yesterday was one of those days.

The field across from my house doesn’t have sharp, brilliant colors, but it does have light that comes in low and warm.

The path into the woods is lined with pine needles.

Further in the trail is carpeted with fallen leaves.

Look around at your feet and find moss and fungus.

The woods glow in the afternoon light shining through the leaves, like stained glass.

Look up.

Not too long ago these woods were fields, with grazing animals. The trees are not that old, some fifty, some eighty years old. But a few pines have been here longer than that.

Walk out along the stone wall, a remnant of those farming days. Now ferns and wild grapes soften the edge of the field.

It was a short walk and we are back home.

Today it is clouding up and the light isn’t glowing through the leaves. The wind is blowing and a freeze is expected. This landscape is ephemeral. Still, it is lovely out. I’m going to declare today a “too beautiful to work” holiday and take the dogs  far into the woods all the way to the Hemlock Forest. When I come home I’ll get down the box of winter gloves and scarves. We’ll be needing those soon.

It’s gross and you don’t want to think about it, but chickens have nasty parasites inside of them. There are various types of roundworms, tapeworms and flukes that live in the intestines, the eyes, the throats and the gizzards. A chicken with a heavy parasite load shows a loss of vitality, fewer eggs and a lowered disease resistance.

I’ve been researching and reading about this, both on-line and in books. But perhaps the best advice I’ve seen has come from this 1941 booklet.

The good news is that the parasites that live inside of poultry are avian-specific. They don’t live thrive inside of people. They don’t live inside of dogs. The parasite starts in one bird, and then its eggs are expelled in the manure, which are ingested by intermediary hosts (usually some type of insect that chickens find yummy) which then get eaten by another chicken. And so the cycle continues.

If you build a coop in your suburban backyard that hasn’t seen a chicken in 50 years, then it’s unlikely that for the first few seasons of hen keeping that your birds will harbor any parasites at all.  Eventually, though, the parasites will come in via wild birds. Or maybe you’ll visit a friend who has chickens and you’ll get mud (and the parasites’ eggs) on your boots. Maybe you’ll pick up a bird at a sale. Eventually parasites will lurk on your property. But, that doesn’t mean that you have to dose your chickens with drugs. Management is the key to keeping your chickens healthy.

Notice how the cover of the brochure shows only one worm,  but many intermediary hosts. That’s because it’s those common insects that are the key. Get rid of those hosts to break the cycle and your flock will be fine.

Beetles and flies need warm, moist and dark environments to breed. Eliminate those from your coop and pen. Also, the quicker you remove manure, the less time the eggs have to transfer into the ground and into the hosts. Rake it up. Compost it away from your flock.

This pamphlet shows quite clearly the difference between a sanitary coop and a parasite breeding ground.

Keeping coops tidy isn’t just for appearances. It will also keep your hens healthy.

Every few years I take a fecal sample to the vet to test for worms. Only once did it come back positive for tapeworms. At the time, my chickens didn’t show symptoms and I never saw bits of tapeworm in the manure. Chickens are naturally resistant to parasites. So, I did not run out and purchase a chemical wormer. I did get rid of the pile of damp hay that the chickens were scratching in. I did start removing all of the manure daily from the coop and pen. I haven’t seen a hint of internal parasites since. (This is confirmed by the fact that in the several necropsies that I’ve done, that I’ve yet to see a single internal parasite.)

Some people worm on a regular basis. Some use febendezole, (known as flubnavet in the UK) which is the same thing as Safeguard horse wormer. It is not approved by the US government for chickens. Others use wazine, which is approved only for young stock and not for laying birds. Wazine is only effective on roundworms. The problem with regular worming of either of these, is that parasites develop resistance to drugs, and when you really need the chemicals to work, they will no longer be effective. I’m not minimizing the real problems that many flocks have with parasites. This pamphlet stated Internal parasites are the most widespread cause of poultry maladies. It also stated Sanitary management is the most effective weapon against these flock enemies. In 1941, Febendazole had yet to be invented. But, I’d still say that management is the first and best step. The chemicals will work once. Maybe twice. But, as we’re seeing with overuse of antibiotics, they are not a longterm solution.

There are so-called organic parasite controls on the market, herbal and otherwise. I’ve yet to see a study that showed that flocks infested with parasites saw an elimination of the problem with these products, but perhaps they are a worthwhile preventative. I’ve never used them so can’t vouch either way. Some claim that pumpkins are a preventative. Likely, it’s a chemical in the seeds, but getting the right amount in year round is not practical. Still, pumpkins are good for other reasons, so during pumpkin season it’s worth letting the hens eat them. I believe in providing food-grade diatomaceous earth in my hens’ dust baths to control external parasites. This might also help to control internal parasites. In any event, the natural supplements can’t hurt, but they aren’t a replacement for good management.

But, what happens if you do have an obvious, serious infestation? What if you see worms in the manure and your chickens look poorly? The first step is to do everything that you can to prevent re-infestation. If it’s possible to do so, move the run so that the birds are on fresh ground. Give your flock sunlight and dry earth. Tidy up the barn so the the black beetles have nowhere to hide. Remove manure. Dry up the manure pile with lime so that flies can’t breed. At the least after all of this effort, you’ll have the nicest looking, freshest smelling chicken yard around! But, if good management doesn’t help because the parasite load is too heavy, go ahead and use the drugs. Hopefully you’ll only have to dose once.

After the recent scare with Pip’s bellyache, I decided that occasionally giving the boys their goat minerals wasn’t enough. They needed a feeder. There’s not a lot of goats around here and the feed stores don’t carry sturdy goat-proof dispensers. So, I found this plan online, and Steve built it.

The goats offered their assistance with the installation.

But Caper thought that the power drill was a head scratcher,

so the goats were asked to wait outside.

Minerals, designed especially for goats, are essential for their health.

I poured the mineral into the feeder and let the goats back into the stall.

The goat boys were beyond thrilled. They licked, they chewed, they crunched.

Supposedly, this design keeps the minerals clean and the goats from being wasteful. Only one nose fits at a time.

There was some shoving, but both boys ate plenty.

I was concerned that perhaps they were eating too much. I wrote to the experienced goat maid at Cudzoo Farm who reassured me that goats go NUTSO (her exact word) over minerals and not to worry. She also told me that the boys should also be getting kelp in a separate feeder. So, Steve will be making another run to Home Depot for more PVC pipe. I also asked Pip and Caper’s breeder at Village Haven Farm for advice, and Martha reminded me that goats need baking soda, too. Anyone at Arm & Hammer reading this? I think that I have your next spokesgoats.