thistlebloom
Garden Master
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2010
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- Location
- North Idaho 48th parallel
...and how do they work? I considered this as I tried to catch up on home weeding chores on Independence Day. (Wasn't Independence from weeds I guarantee ya! )
The girls kept up a constant muttering at their fence line near where I sweated.
"Let us out are you gonna let us out why can't we come out we want out let us out hey watcha doin' let us out..." and so on.
A squabble broke out between the Buff O. and the Blue Laced Red Wyandotte , Splash edition. The Lovely Jetta ( Black Australorp hen and reigning rooster wannabe ) hurried over to break it up and give the instigator, Buffy, a sharp peck to remind her to play nice.
Everyone went back to their pacing and muttering.
Once more the two crabby hens started pulling hair and scratching, or the chicken equivalent of a girl fight.
Once more the Lovely Jetta had to exercise some discipline.
So I wondered, not for the first time, about Jetta. She's my oldest hen and has been through two changes of layers. I happen to like her a lot, and so she's granted a lot of slack, but really she earns her keep. She's laid back and friendly and still lays large eggs with much regularity.
I had a rooster, a beautiful Barred Rock named Russell ( Crow ) who was her best buddy. You could always find them hanging out together, sunning themselves in their dust bowls, having chicken fellowship.
Unfortunately for Russell, his popularity didn't go far with the male contingent around here. Apparently they don't appreciate a little crowing at 3 a.m. . Every a.m. . And steadily throughout the day, every day. So, he was bought by a man down south who breeds chickens for fly tying feathers. Seems like a good life for a rooster.
Well Jetta missed him terribly.
One morning I heard an awful sound and rushed outside expecting to see some kind of carnage in the chicken yard, but nothing seemed amiss. I heard that awful noise a few more times that day and couldn't figure out what sort of animal was making it.
The noise continued now and then in the following days and I was never in the right place to pinpoint it.
Then one morning I was taking care of the other animals when it started. I turned in time to spot Jetta standing on a log and craning her neck in something close to a rooster posture and emitting the strangest hen crow ever.
Poor little darlin' was apparently trying to fill Russells position.
Time went on and eventually she stopped the crowing business. But now she has taken on Russells other, ahem, responsibilities...and surprisingly the other hens don't put up a fight.
She's the Boss lady for sure.
Seems like a lot goes on in those dinky little heads. Enough at least to give me something to ponder while I'm pulling weeds.
The girls kept up a constant muttering at their fence line near where I sweated.
"Let us out are you gonna let us out why can't we come out we want out let us out hey watcha doin' let us out..." and so on.
A squabble broke out between the Buff O. and the Blue Laced Red Wyandotte , Splash edition. The Lovely Jetta ( Black Australorp hen and reigning rooster wannabe ) hurried over to break it up and give the instigator, Buffy, a sharp peck to remind her to play nice.
Everyone went back to their pacing and muttering.
Once more the two crabby hens started pulling hair and scratching, or the chicken equivalent of a girl fight.
Once more the Lovely Jetta had to exercise some discipline.
So I wondered, not for the first time, about Jetta. She's my oldest hen and has been through two changes of layers. I happen to like her a lot, and so she's granted a lot of slack, but really she earns her keep. She's laid back and friendly and still lays large eggs with much regularity.
I had a rooster, a beautiful Barred Rock named Russell ( Crow ) who was her best buddy. You could always find them hanging out together, sunning themselves in their dust bowls, having chicken fellowship.
Unfortunately for Russell, his popularity didn't go far with the male contingent around here. Apparently they don't appreciate a little crowing at 3 a.m. . Every a.m. . And steadily throughout the day, every day. So, he was bought by a man down south who breeds chickens for fly tying feathers. Seems like a good life for a rooster.
Well Jetta missed him terribly.
One morning I heard an awful sound and rushed outside expecting to see some kind of carnage in the chicken yard, but nothing seemed amiss. I heard that awful noise a few more times that day and couldn't figure out what sort of animal was making it.
The noise continued now and then in the following days and I was never in the right place to pinpoint it.
Then one morning I was taking care of the other animals when it started. I turned in time to spot Jetta standing on a log and craning her neck in something close to a rooster posture and emitting the strangest hen crow ever.
Poor little darlin' was apparently trying to fill Russells position.
Time went on and eventually she stopped the crowing business. But now she has taken on Russells other, ahem, responsibilities...and surprisingly the other hens don't put up a fight.
She's the Boss lady for sure.
Seems like a lot goes on in those dinky little heads. Enough at least to give me something to ponder while I'm pulling weeds.