Rotating the livestock

We sat for a good deal of time on the horns of a dilemma. What to do about the laying hens? We knew for sure that we had to get rid of mean old Isabel. She pecked at the other chickens. Hilda witnessed her giving hard pecks to Gracie’s head several times. We suspected that she was the one who pestered Chloe until she had a raw spot on her back. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Isabel also ate eggs and taught all the other chickens to eat eggs. You may recall that we have the nesting boxes built so the eggs roll out. Isabelle figured out how to stick her head through to peck holes in the egg. Then one of the Americauna started laying eggs on the floor of the coop, where they were fair game to all and sundry. One or more of the Americauna was laying eggs with soft shells, sometimes on the floor, sometimes in the nest boxes, where the contents would run all over the carpet and down onto the floor.

Hilda and I discussed and discussed. If we put down all of the hens, we would only have the 6 pullets that we raised this year. We didn’t know who was laying the weak-shelled eggs. I had never seen the chicken that laid eggs on the floor; Hilda wasn’t sure which one she was. Could we part with Gracie and Nadia?

In the end, we decided to put down everyone except Gracie and Nadia, who are now in pet status because neither has laid an egg in months. Who knows, though? Perhaps when they are not being harassed they will get back to business.

Hilda called Todd, the butcher. He did not answer his phone or respond to the email, which was concerning. Shortly after that, Terry and the folks went up to Dale’s to get more turkey food. Dale asked if we needed any more pullets. Problem solved! But could we wait to pick them up until we took the layers to Todd for butcher? Yes, that was fine. And by the way, Todd’s father-in-law had recently drowned. Probably why he hadn’t called back.

He did call back the next day. The date was set for Saturday morning, and we didn’t even have to bring them the night before if we could be there by 8:00 on the day of. Whew. That meant we could sneak out just before first light and grab them off the perch. So much easier than chasing them around the run in broad daylight.

Terry got the kennels ready Friday evening. Hilda and I went to the coop at 6:15 the next morning. The girls were still roosting as expected. The first plan was that I would get them out of the coop, and Hilda would put them in the kennel. Except that she had trouble getting the door lined up so that the latch would release, which is hard when you are holding a chicken. Lizette was first. When we finally got her in the kennel, she went wild from being alone. She put up such a fuss when Hilda was trying to put Lilian in there with her that Lilian got away. Crapsticks! In all the confusion, Lizette got out too. We herded them back toward the coop. I was able to grab Lilian by the door. Hilda got Lizette in the coop and shut the door while we put Lilian in the cage. Then I grabbed Lizette. They were calmer when they were together. From that point on, Hilda and I worked together, one carrying and one opening the door and blocking the chickens already in the cage. It went smoothly after that. The hens squawked a little, but we were able to give them a hug and say goodbye.

The layers ready for their last (and only) ride in the pick up

As long as it was still fairly dark, we pressed on to moving the pullets away from the turkeys. Hilda watched the door while I climbed in to extract the girls from the perch where they sat, of course, at the farthest possible distance from the door. And the turkeys were positioned between them and the door, so I had to negotiate around them (and they are BIG) plus the water and the feeder hanging from the ceiling in a space that is four feet wide.

Gracie and Nadia were as perplexed by their new roommates as the pullets were by their new surroundings. We left them shut in the coop so they would learn (we hoped) that it was their home now.

New roommates: where are we, and who are these girls with the big hair?

The turkeys, when we let them out, cried and cried and cried. I tried to get a video of them, but as soon as I came up to the fence, they ran over and were comforted. The crying stopped.

Terry and I left for Todd’s at 7:30. The girls were sitting peacefully on the bottom of the kennel when we arrived. We moved them to a larger cage, gave Todd the money, and drove home.

When we got back, the pullets were on one side of the coop and Nadia and Gracie were on the other.

We left the house again at 9:20 to go to Dales to pick up four of his pullets. We took two cars so Hilda and Dad could come along. Dale let us to an old horse barn where he’d converted the stalls to poultry pens. His chickens were Americauna crosses (he didn’t say what they had been crossed with), but they laid pale brown eggs, not blue. When we didn’t have a strong opinion about which chickens we wanted, he captured four different colored pullets one at a time with a net.

We got a tan one, a solid black one, a light tan one, and one that was more typically Americauna colors, but with a black head.

This chicken has black feathers with greenish iridescence in sunlight

This is the darker tan one with the other two pullets behind

Terry took the pullets home in the back of his truck. I drove Mom and Dad in their car. We stopped at a roadside stand to pick up two butternut squash. We have sunk to this from near total failure of the cucurbits this year. On Tuesday, I baked every Golden Nugget squash Terry harvested, and it wasn’t even enough for two pies. (I have been swapping out pumpkin for squash in my Thanksgiving pies for years, with no one the wiser. Until now, I guess.) So I had to buy squash. This made me realize how I have changed. When Terry started raising squash 14 years ago, the only way I knew how to cook them is roasted with butter and brown sugar, and I hated it. Now I can’t imagine going through the winter without some squash puree for pies, pumpkin bars, tortilla soup, cookies, and bread. And roasted squash is divine with butter, salt, pepper, and sage. It’s the brown sugar that makes it nasty.

Butternut squash purchased from a roadside stand. We have sunk to this.

Back to the chickens. Hilda and I left Dale’s pullets in the cage while we clipped the wings of our pullets and put leg bands on the Barred Rocks. Next, we got Dale’s pullets one at a time and clipped their wings. We left them together in the coop until after lunch so they could bond. We relaxed, confident that the hard part was over.

Chicken cliques--three of our pullets on the left; the ones from Dale on the right

Another picture of the pullets from Dale

After lunch, it looked like this. Nadia was perched on the highest possible point. The tan pullet was challenging her position. Gracie, not shown, was cowering in a nest box. The rest of the pullets were milling around on the floor.

Nadia ruling the roost while the others mill around on the floor and Grace cowers in a nest box

We opened the door. Nadia charged out immediately. Here’s a video showing what happened next. Two of the Barred Rocks, now named Dorothy and Blanche, tentatively stood outside the door. Hilda went around to shoo the rest out. Then they spotted the turkeys and vice versa. They ran to the fence to greet each other. 

The video ends then because I had to put the camera on the ground and go catch the four pullets who had pushed their way through the electric net. Crapsticks! I walked them all around the enclosure to the greenhouse, where I trapped them in the corner. I followed my first thought, which was to toss them over the fence and back in with the turkeys.

In the main run, we shooed Nadia back into the coop and shut the door for the rest of the day. When it got dark, Hilda and I took the pullets out of Coop 2 (where they had, once again, perched at the point farthest from the door) and put them into Coop 1 for the night. At that time, all of the girls who spent the day in Coop 1 were perched together. That’s good.

The hard part wasn’t over at all. The hard part was going to be moving the fences, which took two and a half hours. Terry and I were up early the next morning. We took the chick fence down from around the turkeys and put up the corn fence. We then put one of the two sections of chick fence up inside the fence around the permanent run. And we let everyone out to play. When I turned my back for one minute, two of Dale’s pullets had gone under the chick fence and were walking around between the fences. I caught them and put them back in the run. I then stuck earth staples through the chick fence where it didn't quite meet the ground by the gate.

The chick fence relocated to inside the permanent run: Nadia and Gracie hanging out in the shelter; turkeys trying to figure out a way through their new fence.

Now we were done. I hope. It is worrisome that the turkeys keep pecking at their new fence. If they break the wires, I’ll be mad.