Molting Falls in Autumn

September is knocking on the door as the feathers start dropping all over the coop. It's time for cooler air, crispy leaves, and half-naked chickens who are falling down on their laying duties. I know what you're thinking: It's the last day of August. Chill out with the fall talk. Tell that to my chickens that have decided it's time to take a break from laying.

One of our girls is starting in hard on her molting. Her feathers are everywhere. I suppose I shouldn't get into a tizzy because she does deserve the break. She's a champion egg layer any other time of year. But one or two of the other girls are trying to follow her lead. I haven't seen huge piles of anyone else's feathers, but I am seeing only one egg a day when we have three girls who should be laying (#4 is still playing Mama to her babies). Sigh.

The other reason I shouldn't be freaking out is the fact that they need to molt. All chickens molt and either stop laying or slow down to a near stop. They need a break. And if I had to regrow an entire body full of feathers, I'd probably stop laying eggs too. The shorter days of fall usually trigger the molting response. I'm sure there's also some internal clock thing going on too. It's like birds migrating for winter or salmon swimming upstream to lay eggs. They just know what to do and when to do it. Since we're not a crazy factory farm or anything, we don't keep the lights blazing on them all year long, which is the only way to force chickens to keep on keepin' on instead of molting and being (in money making terms) "useless" for any number of weeks. Hey. They look mangy for a month or so; they take an egg hiatus; and, they take advantage of the fact that my five-year-old son doesn't completely like pizza or sandwich crusts yet. I owe them that much for making delicious, practically free food the rest of the year.

Truth be told, I went out to the coop the other day and told them I knew what they were up to and they'd better get to laying. But, that was before I thought about what time of year it was. Maybe I should be glad that our chickens just like to get their molting done nice and early. All except one that is. Last year we were entering into literally freezing temperatures while Ocho was halfway into her molt and still sporting a bald backside. More power to her. I just hope they hurry up and get back to laying. I've got some quiche to make.

The Birds and The Bees...of Chickens

We're three and a half weeks into chickdom. And you and I both know the most anxiety producing part of this entire venture is whether you're growing hens or roosters.

Because of our city zip code, I've been wishing for two hens, but it's hard to tell anything in the first weeks. You can read all over the internet about sexing chicks. Some methods are based on trends and biology. Some are based on old wives tales. And some are based on good ole old-timer knowledge.  There's the feathering method - hens are supposed to feather faster on the wings and tails than their rooster counterparts. I've read that darker combs in certain breeds mean hen. I've also read that redder combs sooner mean roosters. Some people think that if you pick up a chick the hens will keep kicking their legs while the roosters will not. Apparently, there's a way to tell the sex of day-old chicks by checking their vents. I've also read that chicks who are more timid are hens and the bolder ones are roosters. That last one isn't sexist at all is it? All I've learned is there are just as many methods and theories of telling the sex of a chick as there are breeds of chicken.

Personally, I'm a horrible chicken sex guesser. I don't see what all these other people see. There are hundreds of posts online from people wondering the sex of their chickens. Looking at these posts, you'll usually see fourteen different comments with half of the answers saying the chicks in question are males and half saying they're females. I usually have nothing. Maybe twice I've been able to tell, but that was only because they were super obvious and the owners were in denial (i.e. the rooster already had saddle feathers and were twice the size of the hens). One time I commented on a picture of a buff Brahma that was obviously a rooster. I could tell of it's roosteriness because one of our first four chickens was a buff Brahma that was so obviously a rooster because he was the size of a Thanksgiving turkey. I knew so little about chickens that I had told my husband, "She has feathers like a rooster," about two days before The Chicken Man nicely told us that she was indeed a rooster. Talk about oblivious.

Last year, as many of you who regularly tune in know, we hatched five beautiful Japanese bantams. Three were obvious roosters from early on. They had bigger combs; they got saddle feathers; they had curled shimmering tail feathers. The other two looked like hens. They were smaller and had the straight up pointing tail feathers of the Japanese breed. We were sure they were hens and I was all ready for some tiny bantam eggs to make tiny fried eggs for breakfast. They were beautiful chickens. Until they turned into roosters! They were still beautiful, but it was like over night they sprouted curving tail feathers and the saddle feathers. I was sad. So now, I've decided not to rely on anything until I have an egg laid or I see some serious saddle feathers and tail feathers. That doesn't mean I don't speculate and drive myself crazy thinking about it.

I've already changed my mind twice about our two three-week-old babies. When they were born I figured they'd both be roosters because that was our fate last year. They were maybe a day old when I told my husband that if they indeed turn out to be roosters this year, we are going sex-link all the way next year. That way I'll know from day one what they are and won't get too attached since we can't keep roosters where we live. I also won't sit here and drive myself to drink for two months trying to figure it out! But after the first week I decided maybe we did have a couple of pullets growing up out there. If you believe the old wives tales, we could have two hens. They're pretty skittish and they feathered out on the wings and tails quickly. Both "signs" that you have hens. Well, from what I've seen online, chicks feather so differently from breed to breed and even sometimes from chicken to chicken that it's hard to place your bet on that piece of evidence alone. As for the shyness, well, last year we had five chicks. They weren't too scared of us. But we had a larger flock. They had more buddies to hang with and to help them feel protected . Five is a much larger number than two when you are talking about tiny chicks. No matter how many other chicks I had running around with me, if I were a three-day-old baby chick, I'd freak out and run away too if some giant tried to pick me up. So I'm not hanging my hat on the fact that they're petrified of us at this point.

Today, though, I have a new theory. One pullet. One rooster. The beautiful little bluer-colored Marans, Belle, now has a larger comb than the yellow-turning-to-white one, Rapunzel. So is Belle turning into Beast? Their legs seem to be the same size (Yet another indicator is the girth of the chick's legs: the bigger the legs, the more likely you've got a rooster), so we'll see. Only time will tell. But I seriously want some chocolate brown eggs, so somebody better be growing some ovaries out there.

That's Rapunzel in the back and Belle/Beast in the front.
What do you think? 

They Must Peep in their Sleep

We've got three-week-old chicks in the backyard and they peep incessantly. If I didn't know better, I'd think they peep in their sleep. The peeping is actually pretty endearing. It make me want to pick them up and squeeze them. In the nicest way possible.

They're super shy. When you get in the Maternity Ward part of the coop where they are living with Mama for now, they start frantically running back and forth in the far corner while peeping. It's a bit unnerving. I keep thinking one of them is going to fall over from a heart attack whenever I go in there to give them fresh water or check their food. Our first batch of chicks last year were nervous about me being in their coop, but only starting the frantic running/peeping if I tried to pick them up. I read online in my never-ending chicken research that an unscientific way to tell if chicks are hens or roosters is by their temperament: skittish chicks mean hens and bold, confident chicks mean roosters. I can only hope. 

Besides the crippling fear of humans, the chicks seem to be doing great. They're still following Mama around. In all respects they're little versions of chickens. They're tiny and fluffy, but they act like the big girls. They scratch for food; they recently started exploring the low roost in their coop; they preen; and, they peck around all day. The preening is my favorite. There's something cute about a tiny chicken preening her wings.

The funny part of three-week-old chicks is the Frankenbird thing they have going on. They're half newborn chick fluff and half feathers. Belle is still darker than Rapunzel. She's a light gray color with small black spots while Rapunzel is turning white with big black splotches. They're wings are fully feathered. They have the cutest tiny tail feathers sprouting. And, since they're feather-footed Marans, they have cute little curled feathers sprouting from their legs. They can look a little scraggly at times, but they're cute none the less. Maybe it's "a face only a mother can love" kind of thing.

What? She Lost the Chicks!

Over the weekend, I had all of the chickens out in the yard while I cleaned the coops - the main coop, where the big girls stay, and The Maternity Ward, where Mama and babies are living for now. Everyone was out and about clucking, chirping, and foraging when I heard Mama make a strage sound I'd never heard before. I can't even describe it. I was elbow deep in litter and chicken poop, but I paused and thought, That was weird, but I went about my business until a few moments later when I thought, What if that was the danger sound and there's a hawk or a giant owl sitting out there (We once had a hawk swoop down and perch on my son's swing set in the backyard while the chickens were loose in the yard. My husband had to shoo it away). I stuck my head out of the coop and looked around to where Mama had been foraging with the chicks. There was Mama standing tall and straight and still, but I didn't see her chicks anywhere.

I went from zero to one hundred in two seconds. My exact thought was, She lost the chicks! I thought they'd wandered away and were God knows where. I came out of the coop and looked around again until I finally saw one of the babies crouched down in the overgrown grass close to where Mama was standing still. Phew! I walked over to them and nearly stepped on chick #2, who was also hiding in the grass. Then it clicked. She did make the danger sound either because something startled her or just so she could teaching her babies. Mama was probably thinking Calm it down, Food Lady. I mean, if she didn't lose any of the five chicks she had last year, why would I think she'd lose one of two chicks this year? I can't help it. I'm a worrier.

Amazingly, they knew what the sound meant and they listened right away and kept still. I didn't give her the chance to tell them everything was okay and they could stop hiding because of my irrationality. She's teaching these chicks all the time just like she did with her last chicks. She finds food while foraging and makes a specific sound to let them know she has food. Of course, they come running and check it out right away. She shows them how to dust bathe and where to go when it's bedtime. They're always following right along. It's the best part of having a hen raise chicks rather than hatching them or buying day-old chicks to raise yourself. Does it work? Yes. Do the chicks grow up just fine and become perfectly fine chickens? Yes. But do you get to see them being tiny copies of their mamas? No.

I can tell you. Watching Mama and babies is too cute for words.

Nuthin' But A Broody Mama

If you've never had a broody hen or you find them as hilariously insane as I do, you'll enjoy this short clip of Erickson, our residential brooder, being strange and quite vocal about it while she was off her eggs during one of her daily incubation breaks.

She would make those clucking noises almost the entire time she was off the nest. It's like she was telling the eggs, "Hey! I'm close by and coming right back." The only time she didn't make noise during this particular break was during her preening. Of course, she wasn't dust bathing daily as she was too busy turning eggs all day, so she would shake her feathers and preen her wings for a majority of the time she was off the eggs. After five or so minutes, she'd head right back to her nest. What a good Mama.

Official Chick Count

Our final number is two chicks. Both chicks and Mama are doing well and are happy. They'd like to enjoy some privacy, but we won't let them. How can you leave new chicks alone? You can go ahead and trust me when I say it's impossible.

I removed the rest of the unhatched eggs a little over 24 hours after the last chick hatched. Most of them were full of liquid when I shook them, which means no chick inside. Two were questionable, so I candled them in order to find the air sack and then I pipped them (I poked a small hole in the end where I'd seen the air sack. Essentially, I was doing what a baby chick would do when it starts to hatch.). One exploded as soon as I'd broken through from the pressure that had built up inside. There was a stinky yolk inside. The other was just a rotten egg. So into a ziplock bag they all went and into the garbage can. I didn't want the guilt of worrying about whether or not I'd thrown away an unhatched chick.

The best thing about removing the unhatched eggs is that Mama and babies were out and about in their portion of the coop the next morning. These chicks are much more worried about humans at this age than last year's batch. Last year's chicks didn't pay us much attention inthe first few weeks and we could scoop them up pretty easily with only a few worried peeps. I'm not sure if it's completely temperment or if it's the fact that there are only two of them, but they scurry into the corner when we get into the coop. Because they're on edge, Mama is much more on edge. Last year she couldn't care less, probably because she had four other chicks crawling all over her if we were handling one. I've already been pecked by her twice and they're less than a week old. I'm trying to be more accompdating because of all the commotion I cause when I go out there. I haven't spent as much time in the coop and playing with the chicks as last year. I'm not trying to give some poor little baby chick a heart attack.

Cross your fingers that we get a couple of hens this time. We're doing our part to tip the balance. As I've said, last year's name's were heavily manly with the Star Wars theme, so this year we went with Disney princesses. Please let me introduce you to Rapunzel and Belle.

And We Have Chicks

This morning I checked on the chickens to find one baby hatching out of its egg. What a great way to start the day. We've had three eggs hatch, but one didn't survive, poor little guy. Hopefully, we'll have a few more tonight and tomorrow so Mama has a nice little brood.

The two babies we have so far are peeping away underneath their Mama. They sure are cute.  One is mostly yellow, with some gray spots and the other is nearly all gray. They both have feathered feet, which is a super cute chicken quality. I'm seriously crossing my fingers that we don't get another flock of roosters out of this hatch because I want a chocolate egg layer. Big time.

Aren't they cute? The yellow chick hatched earlier today and is ready to get going. She's already getting curious and is quite the peeper. The gray chick hatched this afternoon. She's still a little shy, but she's interested in her sister (wishful thinking).

We're still coming up with names. After everyone's hatched we'll decide. I'm still thinking about Captain America as a possibility, but think we need some super girly names. Last time the Star Wars theme, male dominated, didn't bode well for hens. So maybe we need a Lola or a Lucy or maybe even a Cindy Lou.