Moving day

When we got back from dropping the hens off yesterday, I had to have a cup of tea to restore myself. After that, we started in on moving the chicks to Coop 2. Yes, we could use Coop 1, since it is now empty, but we moved Coop 2 into position and got the fences up before we came to grips with the hen situation. We figure that as soon as we can tell the boys from the girls, we can move the girls we intend to keep over to Coop 1 for the duration. Besides, we can give Coop 1 a thorough cleaning and let it sit empty for a bit, just in case there are any disease-causing organisms lurking.

This is the first year we’ve been able to move the chicks as soon as they were ready. For the last two years, we’ve had to build the coop first. I know now why the books advise building the coop before the chicks arrive. You will not, in fact, have plenty of time to do it later.

We chased the chicks back and forth in the enclosure without much success in grabbing them before we figured out to put one of the screens vertically between the walls to trap the chicks on one end. It went better after that. We developed a system in which Hilda held the screens, I grabbed the chick and clipped its wing, and Terry opened and closed the plastic transport bin. We didn’t have to worry about wing clipping last year. The couch-potato broilers got so big so fast they could barely waddle to their food. Flying was out of the question. Dual purpose chickens look to be physically capable of flight for quite some time.

Vertical screen to keep the chicks in a smaller area while the horizontal screen keeps them from flying out

Wing clipping is quick and painless, the poultry equivalent of a haircut. I spread the wing out and trimmed about an inch or so off the ends of the feathers. This puts the chick off balance. It can flutter a little but can’t get up a full head of steam. After I was done, Terry opened the bin so I could put the chick in it. He then kept the lid closed until the next chick was ready.

Hilda demonstrates wing clipping

We carried the bin out to Coop 2 when we had about half the chickens done. I help the bin while Hilda put them in the coop. We covered the door with a screen for the first day to get them used to their new home and hopefully teach them that that is where they belong at night. We repeated the procedure with the other half of the chicks.

Huddled in the corner of Coop 2 away from the door

If we’d had our brains properly strapped on, we would have remembered to move the chick warmer before we did the transfer. Oh well. We had to install it afterward. Hilda wanted to clean it off before we moved it, although I was hard pressed to understand why. She set about cleaning the garage while I mowed the lawn.

Two and a half hours later, the chicks were still huddled in one corner of the coop, quite possibly because they didn’t like the cool wind blowing through the door. As soon as I put the warmer in the coop, the chicks had a complete change of personality. They were climbing all over it and the coop instantly, as if the warmer was a signal that everything was okay. They started eating and drinking also. It was amazing.

We had a little rain overnight. We waited until the grass was mostly dry, about 11:30, to take out the screen. The braver chicks peered out of the door. None would try the ramp. I lifted a few of them out and put them on the ramp. They climbed right back up to the coop. I tried putting some grass on the first step to entice them out. They reached out to grab it and then played keep-away with it in the coop.

One of the Welsummers got to the top of the ladder inside but didn’t seem to know how to move to the roost. After teetering on the top of the ladder for a few seconds, it settled down right there.

I'm at the top--now what?

The day passed. I left at 3:30 to pick up the frozen chickens. It was harder than dropping them off actually. I am sad every time I pass the empty run and see Ina’s dust bath in the corner of the raised bed. I missed throwing them my carrot peelings, which has been part of my Sunday routine for close to two years.

The butcher lady met me when I pulled up. They were done butchering for the weekend and were just finishing the last of the cleanup. She told me there was a problem with one of the chickens.

“A black and white one, I bet,” I replied.

“He would know,” she answered, “but I have it right here if you want to look at it. Her whole belly was just full of stuff.” She opened a refrigerator and took out a bag. A few black feathers here and there confirmed my suspicions. It was Sara.

“We knew there might be a problem. If there weren’t problems, we wouldn’t have brought them to you,” I said.

We loaded the cage in the back of the truck and put the remaining seven hens in a cooler. The woman said, “They’ll be good eating. We could tell they’d been well taken care of.”

“Thanks so much for doing the dirty work,” I said.

Terry and I weighed each one when I got home. Five of them were 3.25 to 3.5 pounds. One was 4.25 pounds, and another was 5 pounds. The two fat ladies, no doubt. Frankly, they just look like food now. It’s a relief.

I check on the chicks periodically. Still no one ventured down into the yard.

My parents went to a concert and dinner this afternoon. When they got back, I went upstairs to report on Sara. Hilda asked, “How long have the chicks been out?”

“Are they out?” I was surprised. Sure enough, Lizette and four of the Buff Orpingtons were down on the ground, mostly hanging out under the ramp. It remains to be seen if they can find their way back up by themselves.

Here's the update on Nadia's head feathers:

Nadia is getting some wild hair!

And the robins will be fledging soon. I'm pretty sure only three of them made it.