This Too Shall Pass.

Sunny.  Buff Orpington. Cute. Fuzzy. Earring Stealer.

"Grandma?  You want to hold Sunny?  She's your favorite I'll bring her over to you."  Heidi brings her up on the deck for a cuddle.  Grandma loves her "Sunny Dew".  She's got an extra fuzzy bottom and charming little face.  She's friendly and mild mannered.  She's got personality.  She's my boss hen out of the works.  So Grandma gets a cuddle and .... her pretty earring snatched right out of her Ear lobe~!

I've had gold hoops pulled right out by Roger before when he was a bit younger and smaller and they were much more than he could swallow at the time.  Not so much for these that Grandma was wearing today.  She held them in her beak momentarily and as Heidi went to remove them from her mouth she greedily swallowed it to her gizzard.

 Rosey kindly demonstrates how Sunny was paying Grandma her visit. 

Sunny is under the deck and won't come out.  I suppose afraid she'll

have to give back that earring somehow.

So being the chicken nerd I am.  I googled this problem and it seems Grandma is not the only one nor is Sunny with her fettish for earrings.  Gizzards galore have hoovered diamonds, pearls and other exotic gems.  Rifle bullet casings, bolts!, you name it it's been swallowed.  The general consensus is that the Gizzard  with its pebbles and sand will grind a pearl into much needed calcium (like oyster shell supplements)  and depending what you love more you'll need to decide on chicken dinner and your prized family jewels OR prized family chicken and well...processed family jewels.  Being a nurse I've considered a perforated digestive tract but given the amount of food these birds get in a day I'm thinking Sunny will be just fine and this bit 'o resin and nickel will pass with oat, corn, clover and tomato by-product.  Cheers Sunny.  We owe Grandma a new pair of earrings!

Harmony? ~

Mink-colored Hans as a Baby in April

Rest in Peace Hans.  It was an August Sunday morning.  I awoke with quiet resolve and after some silent prayers and much thought to the task and the process of that task.  I did it.  He died peacefully.  He was afraid as is usual with him.  But he closed his eyes as if knowing this was it and relaxed... I stayed with him and held his chest as he drew his last breaths... spoke soothingly to him.  I had a chance to take him somewhere where he would have been taken care of for a while-another farm- but ultimately his future would have been uncertain there as well.  I felt I didn't want his demise botched in any way.   I knew how to do it quickly for him without the trauma of a car ride and foreign place. To do it on territory that was recognizable to him in the warm morning sun:   hopefully calming to him. With someone who cared about him even though delivering him to his creator. It was not any easy decision to make with my children.  But ultimately they agreed it was for the better good of the flock.  To find Harmony.   They had an overnight at Grandma and Grandpa's and when they came home Hans was a "Job Well Done"  per Grandma Ruth.  All were in agreement with this even the sensitive animal lover Grandma Ruth.  Grandpa Ken (and former farmer)  said, "Well...  Now you're a farmer."  Hardly. But a hint of what  it's like:   I surely experienced.

Adolescent Hans in his New Digs.

A rare moment: Heidi Holding Hans.

Mr. tooling through the Holly Hocks and Bee Balm.

Hansy just after he took over as Head Roo and

when the chaos was beginning.

The rest of that Sunday I felt melancholy.  Perhaps pennance from God I decided for taking one of his creatures.  Just a little something for me to live with that day.  

 I thought, "I'll let the kids be mad at me today if they need."   And as I put his 4.6 pound dressed-out  Hans carcass in the freezer,  I started to feel different about the whole thing.  Then confirmation from the kids, about a week and a half later, that Hans deserved to be cooked as something Grandiose and  delicious, and glad that he just wasn't returned to the earth in a shallow grave.  Although, only when they were ready for it.  So Hans has some freezer time yet until he becomes Coq au Vin.  And when all is harmonious with the Johnson Children having a Chicken dinner.

The Flock is quieter.  There are 8 now.  Roger has been reinstated.

Happy Boy.

My tomatoes are being unharmoniously harvested by the flock one by one just as they are about to ripen.  So now my kitchen window sill is loaded with Green Beefeaters and Green Purple Cherokees as I've just decided to harvest them all before the Chicks get them.  So much for the Garden Zen-ness.

 Harmony on a level I've been looking for:   The yellow lab is going outside where the chickens are free-ranging and leaving them be...  I am so pleased.



The Problem with Roos

Hans (behind) & Duke (Bantam wanna-be-head in charge)

They are gorgeous.  Their feathers shine and reflect light in a mirade of colors and shades.  Their impressive combs and waddles only add to their exotic appearance.  They dance. They try to seduce pretending they've found food or to show that they really have found food. The problem is though they can be rough with the girls. A nuisance.  Persistant.  To the point that the girls didn't want to come down off their roost today.  We went down to get them out of the coop about mid to late morning...but they were still reluctant.  Forgo-ing food and water. It can be tricky navigating Rooster behavior. 

A hard decision was made to get rid of Hans.  My Partridge Rock Cockerel  (young male).  I even looked at making him a Capon.  (which is to say neutering him)  but this requires internal removal of some organs and a week of antiobiotics.  More effort than what its worth.
Hans has never liked being picked up and it's about impossible to catch him outside of the coop.  He's fairly aggressive with the females now, and nobody is really attached to him in the family due to his general lack of affection towards us or tolerance of us.

Hans.  Persistant Partridge Rock. 

Last evening the Girls took to the roof for

safety while Hans trolled for them.  Ugh.

Go Roost Hans!

I thought about asking my father-in-law to do this for us and he could have Hans as meat in the freezer. But then I'm pretty sure he would rather go spend $5 at the grocery store and avoid the effort. Sooo, it's up to me to do the work here.  It won't be easy.  I look at him as a wayward child almost. But I need to do it for the rest of the flock's harmony.  Sunday morning I'll set the alarm clock and get to business with my errant Yard Bird.  Roger will be back in Charge again.  He'll be so Happy. 

Roger, Gorgeous and Loving, New Hampshire Red.