So Much Rain! And Sleet! And other Yukkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkky Stuff.

This is supposed to be our last winter storm. They said it will knock our socks off. Personally, I need my socks ON to even TRY and stay warm… Trudging through 4 inches of mud in the pig pasture to bring more bedding hay inside the shed for my sweet 700 pound Priscilla meant that my socks got wet and my feet are stinky. But Miss Prissy is warm and dry….well, dry anyway, and covered in hay…I’m not sure anybody is warm today.

I’m okay with this rain today. By this evening the temps will drop 20 degrees and the rain will turn to sleet and then snow. We might not be able to get out of our driveway tomorrow. Next week’s forecast is calling for sun and higher temperatures, so this rain and cold winter weather is but a bump in the road. I’ve decided to like it.

Hank and Frank...two dumb roosters who wouldn't come out of the freezing rain. They are now inside until they are dry.

Hank and Frank…two dumb roosters who wouldn’t come out of the freezing rain. They are now inside until they are dry. Hank is quite tame, as this is his second foray into the world of climate control after a bout of extreme dumbness and possible brain damage from refusing to come into the coop out of the brutal wind and sub-zero temperatures we had a couple of weeks ago. Hank and Frank both have frostbitten combs. Hank is mostly Rhode Island Red, and Frank is Rhode Island Red with a smidgen of silky somewhere his background. He has really pretty silky red feathers. Both need new homes as my dominate roo does not like either one…although they are his children.

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Our yard. This is the shallow end.

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Jetaime (one of our milkers), and Wedgy (the brown wether with the white face behind her). Eating hay and watching the rain come down. When I walked inside they were all laying down but refused to allow me to take a picture of them like that.

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Most of the herd inside munching hay. Malachai, their guardian is afraid of the camera. Silly dog. He thinks it will steal his soul.

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A pile of wood waiting to go into the woodstove. The only remedy for a cold and miserable day.

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Ahhhh, a nice warm fire.

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Foxy Brown. She reminds me of a wolf dog. She’s the sweetest dog in the world though.

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Happy Dog. Doing his favorite activity besides eating…sleeping.

The Lonely Rooster

Fluffy is a rooster. He popped up in a litter of chicks and he was very scruffy looking. Instead of calling him “Scruffy”, I decided to call him “Fluffy”…because his feathers were always fluffed up and didn’t really look like feathers anyway…more like hair with quills.

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From the time Fluffy was a baby, all the other roosters would pick on him and not let him near any of the hens. I took pity on him and brought him inside sometimes, but mostly he hung around by himself and he eventually started following me around everywhere and pecking my feet. He let me pick him up whenever I wanted to and for a while I was worried he thought I was his “hen”. And in fact, he DID think that I was his hen. All that weird behavior stopped however, the day all the other roosters, who had been fighting amongst themselves, went to live on a goat farm to protect a goat farmers hens and eat bugs.

Fluffy started crowing the very next morning after all the roosters were gone. His crow sounded like someone getting murdered, but over time his voice evened out and he no longer croaks when he crows. He adopted the only two hens on the property, even though they did not seem impressed by his small size and creepy crow. He’s a persistent fellow though, and he finally talked the two hens into being herded around by him in a loving fashion, dust bathing with him under the cedar trees, and tearing up the garden whenever the chance arose.  Yes, he traded his strange friendship with me in for two hens, and I couldn’t have been happier.

However, things have changed a bit over the last two weeks and Fluffy is a lonely rooster once again. BOTH of his hens have gone broody at the same time. And not only that, they are both setting on the same clutch of eggs in the same nest and refuse to have anything to do with Fluffy at all. They won’t roost with him on the hay bales, or scratch for bugs in the manure pile, or eat dog food from the guardian dog’s bowl when he isn’t looking. Fluffy is very sad.012

 

His hens, however, are very happy with their new egg-sitting job.

 

020I’ve tried separating the hens numerous times, giving them each 5 of the 10 hatching eggs and making them a nice new nest of their own. But, they’ll have none of that. By the end of the day, the hens have rolled all of the eggs back together and are stuck like glue to each other in this heat. I can’t imagine. It’s kind of cool though to think about these two hens sitting on eggs in the same nest. They were hatched out together as chicks. I don’t know if they shared the same parents, but they had the same mother hen.

The eggs should hatch next weekend if they are fertile and not too dizzy from being rolled around by the hens from nest to nest.

022Meanwhile, Fluffy will just have to be content with hunting and pecking and dust-bathing by himself until his eggs hatch and I’m keeping my fingers crossed he won’t take to following me around and pecking my feet again.