Farewell Rodney

During last Wednesday's winter storm, our top rooster, Rodney uncharacteristically left the chicken yard. This was partly in thanks to the goats who ripped the fence between the two yards down enabling the chickens to escape through the goat yard.  I saw him walking around the outside of the barn when I left to drive the kids to hockey practice, but I figured he would just go back into the coop at nightfall.  Patrick would check to make sure he got in when he locked up the barn.  I came home shortly after, put dinner in the oven and then the phone rang.  It was the farmer across the road, calling me to say that one of my roosters was in his driveway and he wasn't looking good.  He kept saying, "He's a big one, really big one."  It could only be Rodney.  I threw on my boots and coat and ran across to bring him home.  He died moments before I got there, his body still warm.   The neighbour told me that he only noticed him sitting beside his market truck because he was taking a dog out and the dog went over to sniff him.  There was no sign of trauma.

He's the one with the yellow head looking at the camera.

If you want you can read about Rodney's beginnings. He grew into a very large and very docile Buff Brahma rooster.   When I first ordered our chicks from Performance Poultry, I asked the owner to help me choose a flock.  I told him that I was open to suggestion.  I asked him for a good rooster for protection that would also be good with children.  He recommended a Brahma, and he had a Buff Brahma chick.  Rodney was everything that had been promised.  He was BIG and protective, puffing his chest out and standing between his girls and any threats, but he was also very docile around humans.  I've had several roosters in the past 4 years of chicken-ownership, some have been demon-birds, but Rodney (and his son Sandy) have been by far the most gentle.  And I loved the way he managed the flock, he used gentle persuasion.  He set the tone for my flock, and I've had no problems with them accepting new birds as long as I keep them in a dog crate in the coop for a week or two.  He was father of many a hatchling.

Here's a story I've been fascinated by, and have wanted to share for a few weeks now.  One mild day in January, we let the flock out to free-range.  Damon's task was to put them back in the coop.  At about midnight, I tried to lay down to go to sleep, but realized that the roosters were crowing.  I got Damon and we went out to see what was going on.  Rodney was standing out in the middle of the chicken yard crowing repeatedly, inside the coop Sandy was responding.  Damon wanted to scare Rodney back into the coop, but he was not moving or stopping his calls.  I looked inside the coop and saw that the rest of the flock (including my 2 Ameraucana roosters, Snowman and Baby Gigi) were sleeping on their roosts.  As I closed the coop door, I saw that wedged into the corner next to the door was a sleepy Chantecler hen who had obviously missed out when Damon put the rest of them away.  This was the cause of so much concern to Rodney and Sandy.  Kind of like a "no hen left behind" policy.  I scooped her up, put her into the coop and went inside.  Not another peep out of them.  I was very impressed that even though the hen did not seem to be aware of the danger she was in, Rodney and Sandy were.

We will miss you, Rodney, the "rotteny" rooster.

Feathered losses

Sadly, we lost 3 members of our flock in recent days.  Among the dead are:

1. Patricia, she was the loveliest of buff-laced polish hens.  Anybody who came to visit us inevitably had a turn holding her.  She was was a lousy layer, but she was sweet, quiet and very patient with children.  She was the only hen who let the children pick her up.  And she was a good flock member too.  When Barncat (her sister hen) broke her leg and had to be confined to a small pen, Patricia was her gentle companion.  
2. Patrick, my friend the buff-laced polish rooster.  He was selected and named by his namesake.  Several times he required first aid as he seemed to be an accident prone rooster,  I'll never forget the time he got his legs tangled tightly in string and I had to untangle and cut it away.  Most roosters would have panicked.  He also let me keep his spurs trimmed.  He has always desired to be a free-ranger.  He must have been a very attractive rooster, as many hens desire to be a part of his free-ranging flock.  He never quite fit in with the other roosters, but the ladies loved him.  He spent his days roaming all over my yards and orchards and his nights he slept on a shelf in the barn.



A young Patrick the rooster.

3. Miss Piggy (formerly known as Whitey) was a white Ameraucana hen.  She was meant to be Campbell's hen.  She acquired her new name because every morning when I opened the food bucket, she would fly into it and start madly eating.  For the past 2 years, she had a pattern, she would sleep in the barn with Patrick, then she would go into the coop with me to eat, she would lay a big beautiful blue egg and then she would return to Patrick until the next morning.  Patrick waited for her and appeared stressed out when she was in the coop without him.  They really did have a bond.  

Miss Piggy, laying her daily egg.

Patrick (top left), Miss Piggy (right, second from top) and Patricia (bottom right),
also Hawkeye's rear view on left and Miss T (center).

Patricia and Barncat, they were great pets.

Miss Piggy and a friend.

Foraging, what Miss Piggy did best.

Here's how it happened:

One morning, Damon, Campbell and a friend woke up early and went outside to play in the yard.  As they walked towards the barn, they saw what they thought was a chicken sitting on the chicken fence.  Then they saw the "chicken" hop off the fence and into the chicken yard.  That was when they noticed Patricia, lying dead in the middle of the chicken yard with neck injuries, and the "chicken" was really a red-tailed hawk.  The hawk flew away, but kept circling over the barn.  They alerted us.  After disposing of Patricia's body, we waited and watched as the hawk went into the chicken yard again, looking for Patricia's remains.  He looked puzzled as he sifted through the pile of feathers with his beak finding no carcass.  Then the boys chased him off with their friend's AirSoft gun and he flew a few hundred feet away and watched.  They continued chasing him until he flew away.  This incident brings new light to the disappearance of the neighbour's hen and duck.  The boys were flying high with the excitement.  Now I have added "Staple netting to the top of the chicken yard" to my to-do list.

This was our first loss due to predators.  My heart sunk.  I thought my heart had hardened to the loss of animals, as farmer's hearts must do to protect themselves, but Patricia was very special to us.  I even got teary.  I immediately typed off an email to the breeder telling him what had happened and asking him to reserve more Polish chicks for me this spring.  

This morning, my heart sunk a little when I took the dogs out and saw a pile of white feathers in front of barn.  Then I saw the body of Patrick lying about 20 feet away, not far from my bedroom window.  In the barn (which was left unlocked last night by one of the boys) is a trail of feathers that leads to the shelf the slept on, and on top of the straw is one of Patrick's wings.  Hawkeye (a grey Ameraucana) and Miss T (Patrick and Miss Piggy's orphaned lovechild) were still running around.  I'm not sure what happened, it could have been a fox or a coyote.  But I imagine a scene involving Patrick being attacked in his sleep and Miss Piggy awaking and risking her life in a valiant but futile attempt to save her love.  Or something like that.

I am curious about whether the loss of Patrick will change the flock dynamic and convince the other two hens that the coop is the place to be.

On a positive note, today, 3 of the chicks that hatched in September, namely Moneyboy, Spiderman and Vulture (formerly known as Sweet Baby Jesus) have been fully integrated into the main flock. O.J. and Baby Gigi are still living with their surrogate mama, Jill.  Out of 5 chicks, we managed to get 4 hens and 1 Ameraucana rooster.

Farewell Penny

(photos by Lucky Mutt Photography)

We lost our dear friend Penny.

One morning she could not get up. We stood her up and she would just collapse again. She was weak, and finally one morning she could not even lift her head and breathed her last breath.

Daisy and Lily cried for a few hours.

A photo taken by us on the day Penny arrived here.

She was such a shy and gentle goat. And she was even wise. We weren't sure of her age when we got her in 2009, but based on the educated guesses of others, we thought she was about 10.  It was obvious by her demeanor that she had seen rough treatment and had not experienced a lot of attention before, so as she slowly learned to trust me I repeatedly promised her that I would always protect her and keep her safe. We bought her hoping that she would produce a doeling, and she gave us 2 beautiful healthy doelings.  She was a wonderful mother, which was good because I was an incredibly nervous first-time goat owner.  Even though she was shy with strangers, she encouraged her daughters to be social and would peek her head out of the barn door just to make sure they were being treated kindly. 

(photos by Lucky Mutt Photography)

In her last days, I offered Penny food and water by hand, rolled her daily to prevent sores and she seemed very grateful for my efforts.  I just hope that I did all I could to fulfill my promise to her.  Rest in peace dear friend.