tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52674105264987879782024-02-07T18:46:52.999-08:00The Screaming DivasThe trials, tribulations and adventures of raising chickens in the suburbs.Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.comBlogger306125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-37762789884685376542019-04-07T09:34:00.000-07:002019-04-07T09:34:00.677-07:00And then there were 5<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been forever since I blogged. I've switched over to Instagram which is faster and easier with my busy schedule. But I wanted to write one last Blog before I officially go dark.<br />
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We lost two birds last week and I'm broken hearted today. I'm hoping that expressing my thoughts here will help me move on from this dark place.<br />
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When I got chickens 9 years ago, I read multiple books and articles. I went to lectures and asked lots of questions. I thought I was prepared. Turns out, I was not. What I've come to understand is that many, many chicken keepers have flocks of 10 or more chickens with a rooster that free range most of the day. And that flock has a completely different dynamic than a flock of 4-6-8 hens, who spend most of their day in a large run with no rooster.<br />
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Three years ago I bought 6 more day old chicks, 4 Buff Orpingtons and 2 Cochins. One of the Cochins went lame after about a year and we had her put down. She had a large cyst inside her leg and must have been in pain. That was rough on me because she was the sweetest bird in the world. I even considered amputating her leg and making her a house chicken. But that just didn't feel right.<br />
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Last week I found my big Mrs. Patmore dead under the roost. She was a big hen and loved to eat. I'm sure she was fat. But short of limiting her food intake, what does one do? She would go to bed with a softball sized crop when the other hens had golf ball sized crops.<br />
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About a year ago, I noticed that the back of her comb would be purple in the evenings. That's a sign of poor circulation or stress. I really never thought she was stressed. But again, what do you do about this other than keep an eye on it. She'd be fine and bright red in the mornings. But clearly, there was something not right going on there.<br />
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She was also my "lesbihen" and mounted Lady Mary and Bella. Another thing that the books don't cover. I did research as best I could and came to the conclusion that there was nothing I could do. And since she didn't have spurs, she'd likely not hurt the other hens and to just ignore her ways.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0vFzX-qoQ26KXiBsukFQ_iutYaTASnvA69lninnVuqpqPaHVKoPnhqGxcvrASBEjBIsHsYpS9sJDB9e5ls263kHDOxXFy5jRSRQ8s69zhHqtmG_pjMaalsEMHXhVAB-aAznqRMZGMTM/s1600/IMG_6015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1203" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE0vFzX-qoQ26KXiBsukFQ_iutYaTASnvA69lninnVuqpqPaHVKoPnhqGxcvrASBEjBIsHsYpS9sJDB9e5ls263kHDOxXFy5jRSRQ8s69zhHqtmG_pjMaalsEMHXhVAB-aAznqRMZGMTM/s640/IMG_6015.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Mrs. Patmore in my lap. Notice how the back of her comb is a darker purple than the bright red on the front?</td></tr>
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What I didn't realize is her status in the flock was keeping Lady Mary in check. About 18 month ago, Lady Mary started to look more and more like a rooster. She developed this HUGE comb and wattles. She grew a ruff on her neck. She would tid-bit for the other hens and rooster dance. She would also bite me. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw54bb0MItyCenD7SK1avHG6zQY-b9uVrpHCVzCo2zZ9jzHQSHqqvPtvGrDyzoNW6AwjPgnVDaN6RcTTJYvl5f8OQ2vA4NIGDG1QhzhkJQM-vPxLLAArO9RDDqEsGhqGUL_O_wneGm6U0/s1600/IMG_3810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw54bb0MItyCenD7SK1avHG6zQY-b9uVrpHCVzCo2zZ9jzHQSHqqvPtvGrDyzoNW6AwjPgnVDaN6RcTTJYvl5f8OQ2vA4NIGDG1QhzhkJQM-vPxLLAArO9RDDqEsGhqGUL_O_wneGm6U0/s400/IMG_3810.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at this bite on my wrist from Lady Mary. You can clearly see the outline of her beak and where her tough chomped me. She knew right where to get me where the skin was thin and tender and those bites really hurt.</td></tr>
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But I thought I could win her over by being gentle and sweet to her. I was wrong.</div>
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These photos are of Lady Mary. The one on the left from when she still identified as a hen and laid eggs. The one on the right was taken recently. Clearly, looking more like Lord Grantham than Lady Mary. When Mrs. Patmore passed, Lady Mary turned aggressive. REALLY aggressive. She attacked me hard and wouldn't back off when I pushed her off of me. And the final nail in her coffin was when she started to crow. I'm not allowed to have a rooster. And one could argue that she was really a hen. But I didn't want to upset the neighbors nor did I want Animal Control to come remove her.</div>
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Unfortunately, I'm now in a quarantine zone as a case of Virulent Newcastle Disease was discovered about 15 miles away from me. So all of the local vets in my area that would normally treat chickens, have stopped. Thankfully, my regular vet made an exception and agreed to euthanize Lady Mary for me. She did it in my car as I'm not allowed to bring her into the vet office. She also did a quick necropsy and found that her female ovary had shriveled to about 25% of its normal size and there were no yolks present. And here's where it gets really interesting, her other ovary had morphed into a testicle. So she really had turned into a rooster.</div>
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I feel I made the right decision in putting her down. I was tired of being bitten and flogged by her/him. And the crowing was just not going to fly. If I could have given her/him away, that would have been an option. Although, I've read that if she/he goes to a flock w/ a rooster, she would likely turn back into a hen and she was always this little timid hen and would that subject her to a life of being bullied? Tough questions to answer. Again, the books just don't cover this stuff.</div>
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So I sit here conflicted and frustrated. I feel I've had every bizarre, that just never happens, situation with my small flock of hens. If I knew I'd struggle like this when I first got chickens, I can confidently say, I would never have gotten chickens. Having a heads up that some of these things might be a possibility, I think I could have handled some of these situations better. Especially, if I had some guidance on what to do in those situations. </div>
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So now there are 5 hens. All get along well. Marigold gives Bella a little grief. But really hoping that doesn't get worse with the loss of the two hens this past week. I'm really done with the drama and issues. I will not add to this flock and will be done with backyard chickens once these ladies pass. I will always love chickens, but these are my last 5 chickens I will ever own. </div>
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-29614156769467597872017-04-27T19:12:00.000-07:002017-04-27T19:12:26.561-07:00Good Ideas - staying hydrated<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Many of us keep our hens confined to their run most of the day where they have access to their water fountains. So staying hydrated isn't an issue.</div>
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But when you let your hens out to free range, it's important that they still have access to fresh, cool drinking water. Especially, in the summer months when it's warm.</div>
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I fill up a ceramic bowl with cool water and put it in the shade on the patio for my girls. If it's really warm, you can even put in ice to keep the water cool. Put the bowl out where they can easily get to it. And be sure to dump it out after you put your hens back so you don't attract critters who want to share your hens water.</div>
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-77766002782468265772017-04-20T09:08:00.000-07:002017-05-13T19:06:56.685-07:00Good Ideas - egg collecting apronI've always struggled with how to collect my eggs. When you have only a few hens, an egg collecting basket is just overkill. Not to mention, the few eggs I collect roll around inside and sometimes crack bumping into one another.<br />
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And yet, I can't carry more than three eggs and still lock up the run properly. So the dilemma of how to best collect eggs and safely get them into the house was always an issue for me. Until I discovered the egg collecting apron. <br />
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I've seen many different styles out there. I even saw one that someone had crocheted. The one I'm wearing is made by Fluffy Layers and has 10 egg pockets which is more than enough for me and my 8 egg laying hens. I bought it at TSC or you can order them online.<br />
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Let's you keep your hands free and still get the eggs back into the house safely. It's brilliant.<br />
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-68672529492347297822017-04-19T19:28:00.001-07:002017-04-19T19:28:21.963-07:00Good Ideas - no waste feederI'm going to start a new section to my Blog called Good Ideas. These will be short posts with things I've discovered that make my life easier. Ideas that I wish to share with you in the hopes that they make your life easier too.<br />
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If your hens are like mine, they love to beak out their feed on the ground. Which is messy, wasteful, and if your ground gets wet and your feed gets wet, can make your hens sick. So it's important to keep the feed areas for your hens tidy. <br />
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I picked up these large, plastic saucers from my local hardware store and set the feeders inside of the saucer up on a block. It doesn't prevent them from beaking out their feed, but it does keep it from landing on the ground.<br />
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Some of my hens will even eat it out of the saucer. Or you can easily pour it back into the feeder.<br />
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-79276365181260909912017-04-19T18:13:00.004-07:002017-04-19T18:13:45.352-07:00The Screaming DivasNo, your eyes do not deceive you. I have changed the name of my Blog. The Spice Girls has served me well for the past 6 1/2 years. And we had many Spice Girl hens over those years. But with Coco's passing, we no longer have any Spice Girls left in the flock and I felt it was time to turn over a new name for the ladies.<br />
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The Screaming Divas is how I've referred to them lately. And the name suits them well.<br />
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So just a quick note to let you know that you are still in the right place. I'll spend some time this week and this weekend updating the look and feel of my Blog and I hope you enjoy the changes.Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-68509691578116515942017-04-18T19:11:00.000-07:002017-04-18T19:11:32.333-07:00Fly high sweet Coco<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I knew this day would come. I had expected this day to come a long time ago actually. But that doesn't ease the sadness and heartache I feel right now. Easter Sunday, we had to say goodbye to my sweet Coco Bean. </div>
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She was 6 1/2 years old and the last of my original four chickens that started this journey with me. She made me crazy. She made me laugh. And she knew she had me wrapped around her little finger. She knew her name. She liked to dig up my rose bushes. And nothing ever got past that bird.</div>
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When I got hens, I read that they liked sunflower seeds and cracked corn. And I was guilty of feeding way too many of these treats. And Coco, being an always hungry Jersey Giant, was happy to eat right out of my hands.</div>
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I think she was about a year and a half old, maybe two years, when the vet diagnosed her as having fatty liver disease. I was devastated. But he gave her SAMe and she rallied. I cut out all fatty treats and gave my hens fruits, veggies, oats and meal worms as treats. And in very small quantities too.</div>
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And with the change in diet, she did great. She never shirked her duties as the alpha hen of The Spice Girls. But I did notice her slowing down this year. Sunday, she was totally off her game. She didn't go up to the feeder at all. And she was waddling like she was suddenly very fat. When I felt her up, she winced and I knew that wasn't good.</div>
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I ran through what could possibly be wrong. Her liver could have ruptured. She could have an egg stuck inside of her. She could be getting fatter because she's not moving around as much. But regardless of what was wrong with her, I wasn't going to subject her to needles and exams and treatment. I'd just be prolonging the inevitable.</div>
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So we took her to the emergency vet and had her humanly euthanized. I cried the whole way there and the whole way home with her. I cried the whole rest of the day and today, two days later, my eyes are still swollen and red.</div>
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We buried her in the garden next to her best buddies, Ginger, Honey Bear and Poppy Loo. I miss her more than all of my other lost birds combined. Fly high sweet Coco Bean.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVTHEjvdXdAUegplYKUqMxOhy4IwQLsN8mglBCfcqE0XNpwn0wNVVXQCSG1x1rk7HY8Dl0-1r2qDGZ_UMl8hSlsW8PBk2peGHtHi3zERuW6_BESlwNmWhMblddTP43E3zkqbXXnb08mY/s1600/DSC_1305.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEVTHEjvdXdAUegplYKUqMxOhy4IwQLsN8mglBCfcqE0XNpwn0wNVVXQCSG1x1rk7HY8Dl0-1r2qDGZ_UMl8hSlsW8PBk2peGHtHi3zERuW6_BESlwNmWhMblddTP43E3zkqbXXnb08mY/s640/DSC_1305.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco was the most adorable baby chick. And was ALWAY watching me with those black eyes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjox2kUrqI0Tt_uopMAcAujdcz6z0yOH3ZmAdH8lZAGe6ntH66kItttVv2sF7Q0z9e9fO4tOjWtwrS0GJeJRaGNRxPtRzirAEBOh2aSkcI-ilHOXt4ID0YWAQKyAUQ1VQaMBDU192h0KbI/s1600/DSC_1838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjox2kUrqI0Tt_uopMAcAujdcz6z0yOH3ZmAdH8lZAGe6ntH66kItttVv2sF7Q0z9e9fO4tOjWtwrS0GJeJRaGNRxPtRzirAEBOh2aSkcI-ilHOXt4ID0YWAQKyAUQ1VQaMBDU192h0KbI/s640/DSC_1838.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She had the most adorable white, fluffy bottom.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDtQbw1jsHbsRMb_4NZWBDYUngPK-OxBhA1sfS5BtOfL8mZr57b-cfUT57TctPesAOoB515G89wi8tIb6p_OhqaxnjBQ6neH6R_2i0ekvw0kVbX77HDnbj530L3evorSVYmI6khFqZFg/s1600/DSC_1907.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdDtQbw1jsHbsRMb_4NZWBDYUngPK-OxBhA1sfS5BtOfL8mZr57b-cfUT57TctPesAOoB515G89wi8tIb6p_OhqaxnjBQ6neH6R_2i0ekvw0kVbX77HDnbj530L3evorSVYmI6khFqZFg/s640/DSC_1907.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always watching me.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9zoh4FYGEqqqOr0qissIleFtIvj9cQeLzomGgOzpOhJScV1CwERY3Q1s7mEbBirED0YvbEQzAOflVOxPzpr6z0EYEjdnsKiQZVXdWj8Ey3rsnC5BZjeRp-7fT7LLrS34V2-ct6LwIXcw/s1600/IMG_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9zoh4FYGEqqqOr0qissIleFtIvj9cQeLzomGgOzpOhJScV1CwERY3Q1s7mEbBirED0YvbEQzAOflVOxPzpr6z0EYEjdnsKiQZVXdWj8Ey3rsnC5BZjeRp-7fT7LLrS34V2-ct6LwIXcw/s640/IMG_0014.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My most favorite photo of Coco. Standing tall and regal and watching over her domain. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFRzYStPmd78LRma6JkomaPRjzp8n6wz4fBwKwKbi-X6bLDKVHi_BuCv14GOQdCbTCoaanaaCjiXmBzGdK1-A5M9Rp0Mlt82FKJDdRGoJ7E3PVQSY_b25g6LvdSix9dlBbeZ87yWVDXg/s1600/IMG_0039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpFRzYStPmd78LRma6JkomaPRjzp8n6wz4fBwKwKbi-X6bLDKVHi_BuCv14GOQdCbTCoaanaaCjiXmBzGdK1-A5M9Rp0Mlt82FKJDdRGoJ7E3PVQSY_b25g6LvdSix9dlBbeZ87yWVDXg/s640/IMG_0039.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She wasn't a big fan of hugs and cuddles. But she tolerated me picking her up from time to time. Provided I'd tuck her feet up under her.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmxOC_02fTtZvAya7VFmH4DauP_kPux3cpd00JGYsngQcg5WNtWTL-FaMYq_ugYLl95zO1HBGhWeLx6O8c9kCCczO2BDnGNVWW3OE9woDUx6CV7yOSCDOZYL7NivdHscRaFXag2INXMc/s1600/IMG_2953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgmxOC_02fTtZvAya7VFmH4DauP_kPux3cpd00JGYsngQcg5WNtWTL-FaMYq_ugYLl95zO1HBGhWeLx6O8c9kCCczO2BDnGNVWW3OE9woDUx6CV7yOSCDOZYL7NivdHscRaFXag2INXMc/s640/IMG_2953.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Always watching Mama.</td></tr>
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 113px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3500px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 113px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3500px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 113px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3500px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 113px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3500px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-37879813301728999752017-04-11T10:51:00.001-07:002017-04-11T10:51:44.180-07:00She beat meTipping the scales at 4 lbs, 13 ounce and probably more feathers than muscle, she beat me. With a brain the size of a pea, she beat me. And with a beak she isn't afraid to use, she beat me.<div>
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Who beat me you ask? Well, her name is Bella. She's a darling little Partridge Cochin who makes me crazy more often than not.<div>
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I always thought Cochins were adorable but worried about keeping their feathered feet clean. But when I went to the feed store last April to get more Buff Orpingtons and heard they had Cochins, well, I had to have a few. So Bella and a Black Cochin we named Penny came home with us.<br /><div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPBiuM5a3BWBBB3lm-47NT0XY03BInkwM19TWfCKw6iDRr5X3yf4oXkzXgGBUt7Y39pya4LCfSbNObZD-yewiKi4TCJUn__GeEqBeXucBlHeBnmp9kLiWO5pUtPtFd6KYOFZ_TFeVwAs/s1600/DSC_4407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuPBiuM5a3BWBBB3lm-47NT0XY03BInkwM19TWfCKw6iDRr5X3yf4oXkzXgGBUt7Y39pya4LCfSbNObZD-yewiKi4TCJUn__GeEqBeXucBlHeBnmp9kLiWO5pUtPtFd6KYOFZ_TFeVwAs/s400/DSC_4407.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Turns out, keeping their feet clean was the least of my problems with this little one.</td></tr>
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I knew the Cochins would likely be the bottom of the pecking order but the BO's are typically pretty mellow so I thought this would be okay. And while it was clear pretty early on that they Cochins were indeed the bottom of the pecking order, there wasn't too much pecking.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_OH6QXXca_OJ0YAqEMGArf8DREW1tyrHtsoEbKnHzZXyGEIb3SolJxt59-j4NblP8FjTiouQea86E7XLl_6c_nXEV-o4gdjpMN3KLeQD44w0kM6a_qHAKehXM0Lv1hQKeUhBGfx3j7tg/s1600/IMG_0252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_OH6QXXca_OJ0YAqEMGArf8DREW1tyrHtsoEbKnHzZXyGEIb3SolJxt59-j4NblP8FjTiouQea86E7XLl_6c_nXEV-o4gdjpMN3KLeQD44w0kM6a_qHAKehXM0Lv1hQKeUhBGfx3j7tg/s640/IMG_0252.jpg" width="478" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bella is totally food obsessed and constantly comes up to peck at us on the patio and see if we have treats.</td></tr>
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I'm fortunate that I have two coops in my run. A big one and a little one. So I trained the Cochins to sleep in the little coop. Everyone else slept in the big coop. And eggs were equally laid in both coops. But it all worked out.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvQ_JVsFaRUzGOsYhwyuVBRFxCZC1y1cqSuv87ZBs6AUQRyfhF-BdDONjHEi2-wwYp4u563WJfRUpmBlExyqhbM29rSHJwT9-5IDj4dtR3V8x7f0xmWbtwNa9inleB3gWuE7xOwiO8KA/s1600/DSC_4406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOvQ_JVsFaRUzGOsYhwyuVBRFxCZC1y1cqSuv87ZBs6AUQRyfhF-BdDONjHEi2-wwYp4u563WJfRUpmBlExyqhbM29rSHJwT9-5IDj4dtR3V8x7f0xmWbtwNa9inleB3gWuE7xOwiO8KA/s400/DSC_4406.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Look at that darling face. And those beautiful feathers. What's not to love about this bird? </td></tr>
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Then a few months ago, I noticed that Bella had decided to sleep in with the big girls. My initial concern was that Penny was all by herself. But it doesn't get cold where I live and Penny seemed fine with is so I let it go.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNvcRrTaFlI9tcJtbPHxPgXZYtHldowCgeKm2-lc0JFZf22pN6iGczgcZnecvnmao8S1xnhE7-JV_86PoQ80CmQEGidp2XWUq_ZgQj7qWFg1w4YRJH_im2bHteAsShrfSAL1YGItT4R8/s1600/IMG_0258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNvcRrTaFlI9tcJtbPHxPgXZYtHldowCgeKm2-lc0JFZf22pN6iGczgcZnecvnmao8S1xnhE7-JV_86PoQ80CmQEGidp2XWUq_ZgQj7qWFg1w4YRJH_im2bHteAsShrfSAL1YGItT4R8/s400/IMG_0258.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I finally had to fence in my flower pots to keep her out.</td></tr>
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But what I didn't realize, was that Bella was getting pecked mercilessly by the big hens who didn't want her in their coop. It was awful to listen to. So I set out to retrain Bella to sleep in the little coop with Penny.<br />
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For the first few nights, I plucked her out of the big coop and put her into the little coop. Then I stood at the big coop pop door and let the big hens in but closed the door when Bella came around. I tried to guide her over to the little coop but she wasn't having it.<br />
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One night, I sprinkled raisins on the roost in the little coop thinking if she discovered treats on her pillow, she'd be more encouraged to go sleep there. Sadly, that was the one night that Penny decided to go to bed early and I heard her eat every last one of those raisins before I could get Bella in there.<br />
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Another night, I got all the big hens put up to bed and closed off the big coop pop door and went back in to watch Bella on the monitor. She ran back and forth and desperately wanted back into the big coop.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGBiJu7IHZbQenysEF6uJm1dRlpYGS1OxeyuyodmZwambY1fPwFpuVeOhuq9vRzOV9QdqYasXjM41wTwH6breWwbDv-I1dz-zgwTSI7txzrGs0n6M0jFLX7MIuuBpt4u0L8UcqavRXZA/s1600/IMG_2798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxGBiJu7IHZbQenysEF6uJm1dRlpYGS1OxeyuyodmZwambY1fPwFpuVeOhuq9vRzOV9QdqYasXjM41wTwH6breWwbDv-I1dz-zgwTSI7txzrGs0n6M0jFLX7MIuuBpt4u0L8UcqavRXZA/s400/IMG_2798.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bella has the most amazing feathers and I love the way her feathers on her feet drag on the patio when she comes to visit.</td></tr>
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</div>
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So after a week of standing outside in the cold, wind and rain, and trying to get Bella to see that sleeping in the little coop is much more desirable, last night, I just gave up. I had a rotten Monday and was exhausted and I just decided if she wants to get pecked and is up for that kind of abuse, then let her have it. I've showed her an alternate option. It's now her choice.</div>
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She bee lined into the big coop when I finally opened the pop door. I didn't hear too much scuffling as it was already quite dark and the big girls had mostly settled down for the night. This morning, there were about 6 brown fluffy feathers on the floor of the coop. Did the big girls pull those out? Or did Bella shed them naturally? I don't know because I don't have a monitor inside my coop.</div>
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I'll pop out at bedtime tonight to listen and hear what goes on. But I'm done trying to change Bella's mind about where to sleep at night. She won fair and square and that's the end of that game.</div>
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Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-69483846487966419472017-04-03T20:46:00.002-07:002017-04-03T20:46:43.553-07:00Bedtime Drama<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
My babies are going to be a year old this month. I can't believe it. When I went to the feed store, I had planned on only getting more Buff Orpingtons as they have been a good breed for me. They are generally mellow and hadn't done too much damage to my garden. Well, till this batch. But that's a different blog.</div>
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While at the feed store, I heard they had Cochins and I had to have some. So I bought a black and a partridge Cochin, Penny and Bella. And it was clear from the beginning that they were more mellow than the BO's and would likely be the bottom of the pecking order.</div>
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But the nice thing about my set up is that I have two coops, a big one and a small one. When I first moved the babies outside, they all slept in the small coop. But as they grew, they eventually out grew the little coop and I moved the BO's over to sleep in the big coop. And left the Cochins to sleep in the little coop. And that worked out well.</div>
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But a few months ago, I realized that Bella had decided to go sleep with the big girls. I pondered this for a while as I felt bad that Penny was all by herself. But everyone seemed to be okay with the arrangement so I let it be. But I was never really comfortable with the sleeping arrangement.</div>
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Recently, I've been going out at bedtime and only then realized that Bella was getting pecked mercilessly by the big hens. She would try to go to bed first and get a spot on the high roost in the back. But that's also where the big girls sleep. I was surprised that she willingly went in there each night and didn't go back to the small coop. </div>
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Well, tonight was just too much for me to bear, and I pulled Bella from the big coop and put her back with Penny in the little coop. She really didn't protest at all. I think she appreciated the break from the pecking.</div>
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I know I'll probably have to go out there for a few more nights and redirect her to the little coop before that becomes her new routine, but I'm cool with that. I kind of wish I had done this sooner. But I just wasn't aware of how much she was being bullied and that she would willingly subject herself to that abuse.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQi62DrMId6S7a1U1NFdP32Op2hlQEdPNS3qIdmKXH7GU_wyBvEox9A6cCLQ615S0ebT26PEvadMyD86gAtd863eTNi52x-BkfQyAPH1_dG90xzePdahfwSyoXWCr9Is_HEwHaoIh4EqI/s1600/IMG_0261.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQi62DrMId6S7a1U1NFdP32Op2hlQEdPNS3qIdmKXH7GU_wyBvEox9A6cCLQ615S0ebT26PEvadMyD86gAtd863eTNi52x-BkfQyAPH1_dG90xzePdahfwSyoXWCr9Is_HEwHaoIh4EqI/s640/IMG_0261.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bella is a Partridge Cochin and is a beautiful bird. Don't you just love those feathers?</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxCkWuk_zD7JdgHfAzaIjfzY8aFvn8g6DBOjMVSggaECU7QZkDlVNAERNfEPXR9A21LqB-JpI-qMUxMTDkgqfcQT_U9ei-led44s42cAOI04tBs_Vsq_Zlejm67ltRlYrRVO-1180OCE/s1600/IMG_2686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxCkWuk_zD7JdgHfAzaIjfzY8aFvn8g6DBOjMVSggaECU7QZkDlVNAERNfEPXR9A21LqB-JpI-qMUxMTDkgqfcQT_U9ei-led44s42cAOI04tBs_Vsq_Zlejm67ltRlYrRVO-1180OCE/s640/IMG_2686.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny is just darling. She has these soulful eyes that just stare right through your. When I have a rough day, I come home for a Penny hug.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_jmZicfxczKlMdOL_nyEms55PMCArLjhBJsJobbsRV92jgEfy5xIR38w1YgCRyJDYorHQeDpDKqr6CM3aQQt23E8E9TX5rTPdWjxTBMwglcpekjc78gv3TLnHkOn4ot-bl4bhewRFP8/s1600/IMG_2982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT_jmZicfxczKlMdOL_nyEms55PMCArLjhBJsJobbsRV92jgEfy5xIR38w1YgCRyJDYorHQeDpDKqr6CM3aQQt23E8E9TX5rTPdWjxTBMwglcpekjc78gv3TLnHkOn4ot-bl4bhewRFP8/s640/IMG_2982.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love watching Penny go to bed in her little coop as it's just her size.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7N1g7LGQe9Gad2hpVIxIt2yUYw7wbn6OB7vWsaEPth8nS5X_tbiClzzvCxeIYuYC407xpuAoXVZs2Ol506erFcfvfDIgR9al5EhIl92hAgojMfdpbZKWtcZnUTcDqKZ_9zlaU2Mzy3P8/s1600/IMG_2986+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7N1g7LGQe9Gad2hpVIxIt2yUYw7wbn6OB7vWsaEPth8nS5X_tbiClzzvCxeIYuYC407xpuAoXVZs2Ol506erFcfvfDIgR9al5EhIl92hAgojMfdpbZKWtcZnUTcDqKZ_9zlaU2Mzy3P8/s640/IMG_2986+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the big coop. Notice Bella is on the back roost with her back to everyone in her best attempt to avoid the pecking from the other hens. My old hens get the higher roosts and leave the younger BO's to the low roost.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdqKcO18Gl_A6PdadsjjEQLNlMbdTfeHsTEpmKPCCdImGcmNFWCQrDSiMx3Ek4KuWUGT5eNzsM-XZ02qfUaQ__iEwqbxPSE3g0CYnwGewzVxJJFckpyYn1lviAE9-QsIVKwQTYha3c-U/s1600/IMG_2989.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxdqKcO18Gl_A6PdadsjjEQLNlMbdTfeHsTEpmKPCCdImGcmNFWCQrDSiMx3Ek4KuWUGT5eNzsM-XZ02qfUaQ__iEwqbxPSE3g0CYnwGewzVxJJFckpyYn1lviAE9-QsIVKwQTYha3c-U/s640/IMG_2989.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Penny in her little coop on her tiny roost. She's just so darling.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 33px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2936px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 33px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2936px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 33px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2936px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 33px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2936px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 33px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2936px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 33px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 2936px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-26639022314991455552017-03-24T19:44:00.002-07:002017-03-24T19:44:36.281-07:00I'm a chicken whispererI think I can officially call myself a chicken whisperer.<br />
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This morning Coco was bagawking. She'll only do that when there's a problem. So I go outside and she's standing at the top of the ramp, looking into the coop and is clearly very upset about something. But what?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNWCZxxBURHZSePXBNmTFVWHI4HEm_OO3hoINRBzU4Gd2FntZwuxn3FSSTRI2KHPoWiv4IJ5Tv6g41cDvoQ42hCdnqateQYXInWbnXj5wpjMCjk0MogblPYYUVdkg69zPg7EMi6Ow7RM/s1600/IMG_2958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicNWCZxxBURHZSePXBNmTFVWHI4HEm_OO3hoINRBzU4Gd2FntZwuxn3FSSTRI2KHPoWiv4IJ5Tv6g41cDvoQ42hCdnqateQYXInWbnXj5wpjMCjk0MogblPYYUVdkg69zPg7EMi6Ow7RM/s640/IMG_2958.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So I peek inside the coop and found each nest occupied by a hen quietly, laying an egg.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7csibsGedj0pdm5W1T2guwY7d0r6VaQfUpiEH3xEbYI_qb_d0FD-xo0n9ogogJz6pB2roTf2vzXlknOQ_1YHcZyd_jGmbNu5SHwrzTwaolDQqnVR5JfpbzRmIfDSmU1foX47yc1ss3s/s1600/IMG_2955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7csibsGedj0pdm5W1T2guwY7d0r6VaQfUpiEH3xEbYI_qb_d0FD-xo0n9ogogJz6pB2roTf2vzXlknOQ_1YHcZyd_jGmbNu5SHwrzTwaolDQqnVR5JfpbzRmIfDSmU1foX47yc1ss3s/s640/IMG_2955.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So I go back inside the house.<br />
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But Coco will not stop bagawking. And each time I go outside, there she is at the top of the ramp, looking inside the coop. You're probably thinking, she had to lay an egg and was yelling at them to hurry up. But Coco hasn't laid an egg in months. She's 6 1/2 years old and probably done laying. So I knew that wasn't the problem.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjhCFsM0BUf23oqWGOXz-7Uf8B74ljZEVAYeHREtZXFGrq6HDLWMuQSIbpZDwipGQ09SmKOXZGinPOJN3mUQlbxMrE5aqK0PB7A095jLGcbv3-XTCM4EyH0ANtEWkGZKVgvfD8wiEUuA/s1600/IMG_2953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxjhCFsM0BUf23oqWGOXz-7Uf8B74ljZEVAYeHREtZXFGrq6HDLWMuQSIbpZDwipGQ09SmKOXZGinPOJN3mUQlbxMrE5aqK0PB7A095jLGcbv3-XTCM4EyH0ANtEWkGZKVgvfD8wiEUuA/s400/IMG_2953.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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Coco loves to talk to me so I went out and knelt down to get at her level. I asked her what the problem was and she gave me an ear full. So I got that there was a problem. But what?!? <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4XbDj_U7T2Z9eZzxoA-Q7b97xZTe8BGx6fe_yW1F8W5p8JvEegq7LMnyHYsEsQ3HTu1VjhdGT6ccdu-I73VdevH7g1aEgoDWL0NiJiHJkrJqJqNKdZW0RO-lSFYR27ANQIG5SHwcghjQ/s1600/IMG_2954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4XbDj_U7T2Z9eZzxoA-Q7b97xZTe8BGx6fe_yW1F8W5p8JvEegq7LMnyHYsEsQ3HTu1VjhdGT6ccdu-I73VdevH7g1aEgoDWL0NiJiHJkrJqJqNKdZW0RO-lSFYR27ANQIG5SHwcghjQ/s400/IMG_2954.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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I went back in the house but she was still screaming about it so back outside again and this time I brought treats. Which she readily ate. But continued to scream.<br />
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This went on for over an hour and when I went out for the hundredth time, both of the Buff Orpingtons had finished laying and were back out in the run. But Penny was still in her nest. And when I went to feel under her for an egg, she screamed and pecked me. Ah, Penny has gone broody.<br />
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And Coco does NOT like broodies. Not sure what her issue is there. Does she not want anyone to hog up a nest? Or does she really understand that a broody could bring in babies and she doesn't want any more minions to have to boss around? But Coco does not like a broody hen.<br />
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So poor Penny is now in the broody breaker in the garage. And Coco has finally calmed down and is quite. It took me a bit to sort out what she wanted, but finally after 6 1/2 years of listen to Coco speak, I feel I can finally understand what she's trying to tell me.<br />
<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-47946585368654911012017-03-12T07:46:00.002-07:002017-03-12T07:46:54.732-07:00Birthday Hug<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I got a big hug from my sweet Coco for my birthday last week. She's such a sweet bird. She's not really cuddly but she'll tolerate me picking her up every once in a while. Which is difficult for me to respect because she's by far the softest bird in my flock and I just love petting those glossy, black feathers.</div>
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She always tucks her feet up under her when I hold her. My other hens let their legs dangle down but not Coco. Maybe she feels safer that way. I'm not really sure why she does this. But she always does and so I try to get them up under my arm so she feels more secure.</div>
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And then we left Coco and her sisters behind for a few days while we went to Yosemite to celebrate. Below is a photo of me trudging through the snow. It's so beautiful to watch when you don't have to be anywhere and don't have to drive in it.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3G6iYv7pAxPX0LZvPOrOv88JZq-OqvWLNWm8hdoD3uXcEvf9-7LxB3Eszre6NTJnnC0V8BGcYWSxVLFO5b1ChyphenhyphenuRVNYTFCLSjWaBerEQNvga8lkURO5iuBrpiO3wyz58Ai7lBsnU3GI/s1600/Amy+in+Snow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="356" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih3G6iYv7pAxPX0LZvPOrOv88JZq-OqvWLNWm8hdoD3uXcEvf9-7LxB3Eszre6NTJnnC0V8BGcYWSxVLFO5b1ChyphenhyphenuRVNYTFCLSjWaBerEQNvga8lkURO5iuBrpiO3wyz58Ai7lBsnU3GI/s640/Amy+in+Snow.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 914px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 42px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 914px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-77153975361790940162017-02-18T19:31:00.004-08:002017-02-18T19:31:47.659-08:00No chickens in the houseWe don't wear shoes in our house. I want to be able to walk bare foot in my house and still have clean feet at the end of the day. Not to mention, you can track in all kinds of stuff from the world into your house on the bottoms of your shoes.<br />
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So naturally, we don't let our hens inside the house. For anyone who has hens, you know they have no boundaries and will step in poop and just not care. Not to mention, they will poop in your house too.<br />
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But I also like fresh air in the house so I like to have the slider open when I'm home. Which means we either need to keep the screen door closed or only crack open the slider 4 inches. No more. Any more, and we'd have chickens in the house.<br />
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Marigold is my problem hen and desperately tried to come in and see what's cooking. You can see here that she's nearly able to squeeze through. But not quite.<br />
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I'm sorry sweetie, but you need to stay outside with your sisters.<br />
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-71519326546658261212017-02-11T17:03:00.003-08:002017-02-11T17:03:35.848-08:00Blue Poop<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbI-tSJO9LS-A8IE8SbFPxt3FLtS8ZpisyiYrQJRICUWMAUzeCsaLsvwJtNI6_Q0ZjMjIgBmp_Ww1LLsbzL3GrPRP2FPhngnZsuhMTPL8eT7rGLjFmO5ziDpaQMsZKHZc_ObWMYmsGh70/s1600/16681940_10209703980489411_3920924232829087594_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbI-tSJO9LS-A8IE8SbFPxt3FLtS8ZpisyiYrQJRICUWMAUzeCsaLsvwJtNI6_Q0ZjMjIgBmp_Ww1LLsbzL3GrPRP2FPhngnZsuhMTPL8eT7rGLjFmO5ziDpaQMsZKHZc_ObWMYmsGh70/s640/16681940_10209703980489411_3920924232829087594_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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If you feed your hens purple cabbage, they will thank you with turquoise colored poop. It even stained the pine shavings in the coop as they were eating it before bed last night. Blueberries will also give them blue poop.<br />
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It's a good reminder that what they eat really flows right through them. And into their eggs as well.Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-21519001687949823422017-02-06T19:34:00.001-08:002017-02-06T19:34:53.477-08:00Turkey Mom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuCIhWsaST_I0_rdPu5va7bVivItTU9ikrGctshe_rmmtD5SFkfqT_nbcfcvAKIF0OoUmB_1nn5l3dyPDRLql3h2lo8wwy3cXgcPzaO0Pnf8Ynp171TuP2DzwiPTer3bnCn4qy-MH64w/s1600/IMG_2796.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLuCIhWsaST_I0_rdPu5va7bVivItTU9ikrGctshe_rmmtD5SFkfqT_nbcfcvAKIF0OoUmB_1nn5l3dyPDRLql3h2lo8wwy3cXgcPzaO0Pnf8Ynp171TuP2DzwiPTer3bnCn4qy-MH64w/s640/IMG_2796.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Anyone who's ever had a broody knows exactly what this is. It's when a hen puffs up every single feather on her body to make her look three times her normal size and is used to intimidate the other hens. Someone on my favorite chicken Facebook group described it as "Back the Cluck up Bitch" mode. And while some may find that offensive, it really is a great description of what the hen is thinking.<br />
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This is Marigold yesterday. She was on day two of being in the broody breaker trying to get her to rethink her broody ways. I put her out in the garden to stretch her legs and hang out with her sisters. I also wanted to see if she would attempt to get back into her nest box.<br />
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Today is day three and while she's still making the broody, chuck, chuck, chuck sounds, I did get her to roost with her sisters tonight so I think she may be over it. Fingers crossed that she's back out in the run like normal in the morning. It breaks my heart to isolate her in the broody breaker. But letting her brood when there's no chance of her having babies is even more cruel.<br />
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-3082934051415730592017-02-04T14:33:00.001-08:002017-02-04T14:33:36.005-08:00First broody of 2017I came home from a work trip to one VERY broody hen.<br />
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Marigold is 9 months old. For the last 3-4 months, she has walked around making the chuck, chuck, chuck, broody mama sound. She'll even puff up and go all turkey mom on any of the other hens if they get close. But she never quite tipped over into being fully broody. She continued to lay eggs and roost at night. So I just let her be.<br />
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But last week I felt she was acting a little more broody than she had been. And I was right. When I got home last night, she was nestled into a nest box as happy as could be. I scooped her out, gave her a big hug and put her up on the roost. Ten minutes later, she was back in the nest. I thought, it wasn't quite dark and now that it's dark, I'll try again. Nope, off the roost and back into the nest. <br />
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So this morning, I moved her to my dog crate/broody breaker in the garage. It breaks my heart to isolate her like that. But I'm not in a position to let her brood, so breaking her is probably the most humane thing to do.<br />
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I suppose I should get used to this as I've got 3 more young Buff Orpingtons and 2 Cochins and all are prone to going broody. So as we head into spring, this is not the last time I'm going to have to deal w/ this.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaER7EkLKhRF9G4ButfWghRjLHVSGr-lOb6s5VLhNetCKNJHF537fgLvIRAoCFTSSAMnZ5sVRNW_r2Q9xegTEUOqOAbPZ_yRs1KI0xcbocg3a2O0I4ky70NXqrJI6g1q-w1JeKRFHzRB0/s1600/IMG_2788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaER7EkLKhRF9G4ButfWghRjLHVSGr-lOb6s5VLhNetCKNJHF537fgLvIRAoCFTSSAMnZ5sVRNW_r2Q9xegTEUOqOAbPZ_yRs1KI0xcbocg3a2O0I4ky70NXqrJI6g1q-w1JeKRFHzRB0/s640/IMG_2788.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I know people say you should tip the dog crate onto its side but I've always had good luck doing it this way. They like to stand on the big block and it kind of blocks them from nestling down into the towels. Hopefully, she's over being broody in a day or two and I can get her back out with her sisters.Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-37749492886043381902017-01-27T14:59:00.003-08:002017-01-27T14:59:46.579-08:00Happy New Year<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
New Years resolution - blog more. I always feel I need to have a specific topic to blog about and fabulous photos to go along with it. And the reality is, sometimes it's just statue quo around here. So in the new year, I promise to blog more. Doesn't mean I'll necessarily have these deep informative insights to share. It's more just what's going on in my yard at the time.</div>
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And speaking of my yard, it's trashed. We FINALLY got rain this year and lots of it. And I don't even live in the wet part of the state. But we needed it. I think most things are enjoying this really good soaking we've received. I hope my garden survives it. Unfortunately, what's surviving is also being eaten by the hens.</div>
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I have a bunch of these wire rings around the garden. The problem is I need about 25 more to protect everything. I did replant my patio pots and put up some temporary fencing around that to keep the ladies from grazing "the salad bar" and it's working. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAuJ2JuK4SaMkRLV2gKT252vQZjh8P9cxyPHNpjXSb3ssWo1i8mI9SEd2dypsBMos66s4CQpxXXNJZVc8ZlpNUChvFW1hiZ8u-mpN3ehgGdxvPL1oIpLAer-IZ-7IdIz5njyiiNulay0/s1600/DSC_4438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnAuJ2JuK4SaMkRLV2gKT252vQZjh8P9cxyPHNpjXSb3ssWo1i8mI9SEd2dypsBMos66s4CQpxXXNJZVc8ZlpNUChvFW1hiZ8u-mpN3ehgGdxvPL1oIpLAer-IZ-7IdIz5njyiiNulay0/s640/DSC_4438.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco is nearly 6 1/2 years old. And her age is starting to show. But she's still the queen of the flock.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0N6bT2whloCt7uQyj0spm60tWgSu8Qw9StwVRTozzbqZztJp45JHUmeo9z8sNxhja5EbNTqWjDZKOehxsbwAUJ3UofbTkzUwiMp_09GXJpHV9yZCTRFt3_q19vSiznwJe2K_f9C2Mmo/s1600/DSC_4439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0N6bT2whloCt7uQyj0spm60tWgSu8Qw9StwVRTozzbqZztJp45JHUmeo9z8sNxhja5EbNTqWjDZKOehxsbwAUJ3UofbTkzUwiMp_09GXJpHV9yZCTRFt3_q19vSiznwJe2K_f9C2Mmo/s640/DSC_4439.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We nearly lost Peaches last year from a crop impaction. Every day I thank the lord that I was able to save this bird and she's still with us. She has these soulful eyes that just stare right through you. I really love her.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGG_50v0JfXDDfWnN_4g5-2ftYWVii30s2JQrRa45BtDnKm91XDSI9Foq3t5k6GhHvghfGWbwx7B_zllY7iSJOreV5V7g8lZ_KvaS5m6KycNBa_cddw0R67wl1lfW-RKlsESZEBFeyj0/s1600/DSC_4441.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGG_50v0JfXDDfWnN_4g5-2ftYWVii30s2JQrRa45BtDnKm91XDSI9Foq3t5k6GhHvghfGWbwx7B_zllY7iSJOreV5V7g8lZ_KvaS5m6KycNBa_cddw0R67wl1lfW-RKlsESZEBFeyj0/s640/DSC_4441.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And a photo of my three older gals. That's Pearl at the top. She's the least friendly of the bunch but I still love her.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDNUoCKSFLu4xGgEf0OdhLeTYbh7f4khDE00G1_UlpgWxmPDZVeazXf9YBUiYlVnOOUCpllUGdoHZXPGsUuqBVhm_gcfKxo9fGk9UpgEQqNk-f2FOgvgZ_l8aivoQbWvdUs0B7NcgLrFw/s1600/DSC_4444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDNUoCKSFLu4xGgEf0OdhLeTYbh7f4khDE00G1_UlpgWxmPDZVeazXf9YBUiYlVnOOUCpllUGdoHZXPGsUuqBVhm_gcfKxo9fGk9UpgEQqNk-f2FOgvgZ_l8aivoQbWvdUs0B7NcgLrFw/s640/DSC_4444.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Marigold. We call her Squirt. She's small, wiley and can squeeze through the tinniest of spaces. I've found her in OUR house a few times cuz she just slips through the 3" crack I leave the door open so I can hear them.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HBmPK9N1NTjqk-MzwIRedsXqXeiQJmZ_jOfZIZ0ekyOk2UgDM2gc8D1nJsBXBAeq9Aai74-Jh8s_0_FGbBKk0Gz49yihmoL7vZvGEu4ODQWc9rAI1onQc2C4xNzEhaJ9OaKJtsV91Yg/s1600/DSC_4449.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HBmPK9N1NTjqk-MzwIRedsXqXeiQJmZ_jOfZIZ0ekyOk2UgDM2gc8D1nJsBXBAeq9Aai74-Jh8s_0_FGbBKk0Gz49yihmoL7vZvGEu4ODQWc9rAI1onQc2C4xNzEhaJ9OaKJtsV91Yg/s400/DSC_4449.jpg" width="378" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And Bella, she's a Partridge Cochin. She is darling. Just came into lay at 10 months of age. Not the best photo of her. She has the most amazing feathers.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">
So that's the latest from here. More photo to come.</div>
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<span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 164px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3673px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span><span style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: #bd081c; background-image: url(data:image/svg+xml; background-position: 3px 50%; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; background-size: 14px 14px; border-bottom-left-radius: 2px; border-bottom-right-radius: 2px; border-top-left-radius: 2px; border-top-right-radius: 2px; border: none; color: white; cursor: pointer; display: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: bold; left: 164px; line-height: 20px; opacity: 1; padding: 0px 4px 0px 0px; position: absolute; text-align: center; text-indent: 20px; top: 3673px; width: auto; z-index: 8675309;">Save</span>Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-3664861695132677712016-10-30T15:44:00.000-07:002016-10-30T15:44:00.610-07:00Carving pumpkins with chickensThis may come as a surprise to some, but I don't like carving pumpkins. Probably stems out of an accident I had as a child where I sliced open three fingers carving a pumpkin. But I feel a sense of obligation to do at least one every year to show we are open for Trick or Treating on Halloween.<div>
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This year I have a thousand things going on in both my personal and professional life and as Halloween approached, the thought of carving a pumpkin was simply one more chore on my list. And then I thought, I wonder if I can get the hens to carve it for me?</div>
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So I took the big pumpkin off the front porch and used a melon baller to start the eyes, nose and mouth and put the big gourd in the chicken run. My past batches of hens have shown no interest in pumpkins what so ever. But this last batch of babies (who are not six month old I should add) did show some interest in the pumpkins in the garden, so thought what have I got to lose.</div>
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Turns out, nothing!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCbzpfgsBrCI-sPpGs8q20mXx-ErqbrGFm6Nv5_ewCu5Jrs0nNp2FLkNQ80ahKVMSNVQ464Ealg-elwRLTbZYmiL26bCJaVAZw2mLhkr4t7WaLMV5if73Jf4pRhYn5hAJtmI1gKiQyO6E/s1600/DSC_4392.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCbzpfgsBrCI-sPpGs8q20mXx-ErqbrGFm6Nv5_ewCu5Jrs0nNp2FLkNQ80ahKVMSNVQ464Ealg-elwRLTbZYmiL26bCJaVAZw2mLhkr4t7WaLMV5if73Jf4pRhYn5hAJtmI1gKiQyO6E/s640/DSC_4392.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pumpkin freshly set in their run with the eyes, nose and mouth started.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuelQkKHok6ZLTaM-4SNxoR0lp36H0Ns9v-HAJx5iCwG5KGZC-jcBlu-ad3x_wM7PyawQc1Yc9ILDpBtsRZ9GpJZEFVkm7G7mCtmlvrcbUIV0JzAx7Tj2nUl33GtQ1-OTNp5MfOABJs04/s1600/DSC_4394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuelQkKHok6ZLTaM-4SNxoR0lp36H0Ns9v-HAJx5iCwG5KGZC-jcBlu-ad3x_wM7PyawQc1Yc9ILDpBtsRZ9GpJZEFVkm7G7mCtmlvrcbUIV0JzAx7Tj2nUl33GtQ1-OTNp5MfOABJs04/s640/DSC_4394.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The babies immediately showed interest in the gourd.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrBxXe4a0No8OF0iPYl5yl2c5Qp4vFiiX9cR6fxGXvkI_qORAtLFSNPScFS9DkqpZmrEQ8Sm3a3NdWE-lou1N7sf5uAdQg2WxzkVMGSK7fR0tburQAEaAJFPbdAWzSvM5xpgXsSZKMTo/s1600/DSC_4400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZrBxXe4a0No8OF0iPYl5yl2c5Qp4vFiiX9cR6fxGXvkI_qORAtLFSNPScFS9DkqpZmrEQ8Sm3a3NdWE-lou1N7sf5uAdQg2WxzkVMGSK7fR0tburQAEaAJFPbdAWzSvM5xpgXsSZKMTo/s640/DSC_4400.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfc3Di0Mqe4iZaYBeo_EsftAD-MOSE3iumfTimBdvHOoptkhYEiJ05Ym2I4SwBEQ3Cz1pRqNb2Cns7C1i1oK5DUm8cmkds1t4BAYfjvfT1eYidTHUODChSU8bTpsG2pVscuqpyX8sQeyg/s1600/DSC_4414.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfc3Di0Mqe4iZaYBeo_EsftAD-MOSE3iumfTimBdvHOoptkhYEiJ05Ym2I4SwBEQ3Cz1pRqNb2Cns7C1i1oK5DUm8cmkds1t4BAYfjvfT1eYidTHUODChSU8bTpsG2pVscuqpyX8sQeyg/s640/DSC_4414.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even Coco got in on the action. She's molting really hard right now and not at all herself so I was pleased she felt up to giving it a go.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JSLu4QolXjvKoeC1-HQ3xd0e2oWYQCvUiCeUdphsPZFuIx1boXN9dkW0lQuOrGvmFs-SE9aN8K9PvZapf3wuc7E85Gg50WJImJDkIFOX3P4DevEqiiThVS3Dd0yINqwHc_uUMiS3mxI/s1600/DSC_4420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6JSLu4QolXjvKoeC1-HQ3xd0e2oWYQCvUiCeUdphsPZFuIx1boXN9dkW0lQuOrGvmFs-SE9aN8K9PvZapf3wuc7E85Gg50WJImJDkIFOX3P4DevEqiiThVS3Dd0yINqwHc_uUMiS3mxI/s640/DSC_4420.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the pumpkin about 24 hours later.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1nP6evPeRuf7m9c8QCKfHXMs6i5YdAduaRjXlIuQe2iesTEbY6c9-XtX_7iF2MFQbRAb-8ymfP3x5yL896kCe2peNjLuqMfEMn0k3rWUUOErAH7-t3_2pgAKsLuxz5Qgj3i837T9hXCc/s1600/DSC_4423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1nP6evPeRuf7m9c8QCKfHXMs6i5YdAduaRjXlIuQe2iesTEbY6c9-XtX_7iF2MFQbRAb-8ymfP3x5yL896kCe2peNjLuqMfEMn0k3rWUUOErAH7-t3_2pgAKsLuxz5Qgj3i837T9hXCc/s640/DSC_4423.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the other side of the pumpkin 24 hours later. I thought I'd give them two sides to carve. One, to give everyone access to the gourd without fighting and two, to make sure I got at least one good side to display.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ye593PZO782lUuxAiuphM44mZx1ZOMcLfZEZLCM_Xqew_dNkRLk9nEJy0p-UdNAJCzePGINUTFgT0JF4uQgkSONu8kSTpa25rVbz5eLqDnDGDbS-FIpc5tF5O9Q0xcnxFF-NjYiWYAY/s1600/DSC_4424.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7ye593PZO782lUuxAiuphM44mZx1ZOMcLfZEZLCM_Xqew_dNkRLk9nEJy0p-UdNAJCzePGINUTFgT0JF4uQgkSONu8kSTpa25rVbz5eLqDnDGDbS-FIpc5tF5O9Q0xcnxFF-NjYiWYAY/s640/DSC_4424.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And heres the finished product. Most of the seeds and guts are gone. They didn't do such a good job on the mouth. But why bend over when the eyes and nose are right at their eye level. </td></tr>
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I also dressed up the chickens in their halloween costumes. They went at Chickens of the Sea this year. For my foreign followers, we have a brand of tuna here in the States called Chicken of the Sea.<br />
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I bought a lobster and a shark costume. The lobster wasn't as big of a hit. I think the big hood was hard for them to figure out. But the shark was a scream. Several hens tried it on and gave it a go.<br />
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But I couldn't get them to pose together in their costumes. Oh well, they were still super cute.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSFxAiRdXuKFX1dOc63jjqxERoydU0ibG_nHmmpdOobQo1VnAlfYMXrbnbcqBYx7oNW6utiOM3yVlU24qMFG3rgMPfWiwibROMssZCmAfen6l6qEfkca68S3VVRPksF7o8XLHs2RkdxI/s1600/DSC_4322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSSFxAiRdXuKFX1dOc63jjqxERoydU0ibG_nHmmpdOobQo1VnAlfYMXrbnbcqBYx7oNW6utiOM3yVlU24qMFG3rgMPfWiwibROMssZCmAfen6l6qEfkca68S3VVRPksF7o8XLHs2RkdxI/s640/DSC_4322.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Add caption</td></tr>
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So we're ready for Halloween here at my house. Pumpkin is carved. Chickens are fat and happy and full of pumpkin seeds. Oh, and my run and garden are covered in orange speckled poops. Probably TMI but I thought it was funny. Good reminder that chickens really are what they eat. And what they eat in turns makes for some really yummy eggs.</div>
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Happy Halloween Everyone!</div>
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Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-32767191051933846152016-08-14T16:40:00.001-07:002016-08-14T16:40:43.222-07:00Update on the babies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The babies are 17 weeks old tomorrow. Woo Hoo. One more week and we can start to co-mingle them with the big girls. They all get along just fine. I keep them separated so that the babies don't eat the big girl food yet. Or at least I try. They still manage to get their heads under the bag I put over the feeder and get in a few bites.</div>
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It will be nice for me and for them to have them exist as one big, hopefully happy, flock. It's more work for me to have everything in duplicate, 2 feeders, 2 kinds of feed, 2 waterers, 2 coops to clean out, etc. And it will give the babies more real estate.</div>
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I took a bunch of photo of them today in the garden just to show how big they are today.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwnBqitremty1MMoKHY8VbYpozNq3VEj7Z13uzQY8kCyb1sCQOmWXe3sbt8RQcG-1PkGaIgh1IGvuUyHCuY_6GP4VyZD22zeei269e8SM4bM7wI4AriwbWZPi5cf8swVF9axACT-msHE/s1600/DSC_3934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwnBqitremty1MMoKHY8VbYpozNq3VEj7Z13uzQY8kCyb1sCQOmWXe3sbt8RQcG-1PkGaIgh1IGvuUyHCuY_6GP4VyZD22zeei269e8SM4bM7wI4AriwbWZPi5cf8swVF9axACT-msHE/s640/DSC_3934.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny seems to think my chicken sculpture is the perfect perch for her.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRoWK1D-ClXrIEnklXfdXYLvNGSpyoJEZwlNFkau_ja5V8v84t3yZZg8J93S-2kyRzX08MRpCqQMdsLtnFO3iZp0tpe6iXi079LFRQbxwePjUD-ctSX00TvU7SeQmzWmwhcaetO7IH0N8/s1600/DSC_3937.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRoWK1D-ClXrIEnklXfdXYLvNGSpyoJEZwlNFkau_ja5V8v84t3yZZg8J93S-2kyRzX08MRpCqQMdsLtnFO3iZp0tpe6iXi079LFRQbxwePjUD-ctSX00TvU7SeQmzWmwhcaetO7IH0N8/s640/DSC_3937.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Big Coco is still the Queen of the flock. She'll be 6 years old in October.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoVGpBmmXk8AXyHrhO1V3q8_jhAsTBBakfBZb8YVsi7kIalpkmZ7hNw56V3kz6qcO6RjvjxLVFV47miPUkdzP5pFwKGBl-gXSLx4kjRlVFOMumC-ckoa9jk2Ugj2KnbHA7oO8eaSvHGM/s1600/DSC_3947.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsoVGpBmmXk8AXyHrhO1V3q8_jhAsTBBakfBZb8YVsi7kIalpkmZ7hNw56V3kz6qcO6RjvjxLVFV47miPUkdzP5pFwKGBl-gXSLx4kjRlVFOMumC-ckoa9jk2Ugj2KnbHA7oO8eaSvHGM/s640/DSC_3947.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny is turning out to be a beautiful bird. I love the green sheen on her black feathers. I can't wait for her to fully mature so I can see how big and fluffy she ends up being.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPHDJAScBzv2eusiVCyeY9vr87Bd4OYwfxhm5tIchxH8urIlLINcB8GAGx1HDnzYlj4mKO2g9nS9uVAuQS0jUrQnhpdoeOF4AheGQmwDbUzn8pSwJgr9Q0UWY0hmCaWJpPy94ziAkIO-o/s1600/DSC_3949.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPHDJAScBzv2eusiVCyeY9vr87Bd4OYwfxhm5tIchxH8urIlLINcB8GAGx1HDnzYlj4mKO2g9nS9uVAuQS0jUrQnhpdoeOF4AheGQmwDbUzn8pSwJgr9Q0UWY0hmCaWJpPy94ziAkIO-o/s640/DSC_3949.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bella is another beauty in the garden. I wish you could hear her walk. She sounds like a lady who's wearing her trousers too long as those long feathers on her feet drag on the ground.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JTOAPobIb2gQHlApVO5XQqIGqoGj1fBcdv8n-72e3d1RW4mlreyWQqRz4l0rDQ5gdzk2sWC9FbGvjg8ATMRXIlJGt5htTJkiNhwrQlqU2uPVb5OEf4stUnYMqPtvyz-mztgvxo9KU7Y/s1600/DSC_3952.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JTOAPobIb2gQHlApVO5XQqIGqoGj1fBcdv8n-72e3d1RW4mlreyWQqRz4l0rDQ5gdzk2sWC9FbGvjg8ATMRXIlJGt5htTJkiNhwrQlqU2uPVb5OEf4stUnYMqPtvyz-mztgvxo9KU7Y/s640/DSC_3952.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peaches has begun her first ever molt. She was fine one day when I left for work. I came home and it looked like a chicken had blown up. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTiAz4u5Emg6rxdtxG6kxj_8id1GChyphenhyphenzWmfA91XtupheRZhRP-TGpgnn3zXCRLPyYZa_GwxiGrf-w2JmfbB44cGQmwbMc15Y-jgpK0R4t7KLPLuEg2sLn47nYz7rFw_IHq5GDk_tTXlM8/s1600/DSC_3953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTiAz4u5Emg6rxdtxG6kxj_8id1GChyphenhyphenzWmfA91XtupheRZhRP-TGpgnn3zXCRLPyYZa_GwxiGrf-w2JmfbB44cGQmwbMc15Y-jgpK0R4t7KLPLuEg2sLn47nYz7rFw_IHq5GDk_tTXlM8/s640/DSC_3953.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peaches on the right and Pearl on the left. Pearl hasn't started to molt yet and you can see how tight her coat is still. But she should begin molting anytime now.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3s_D7c8qxm38vk_RwA74_PcQzvWfoEJRA7TpZQXI6bN9aehuyxsfbnhibHH4BHJ3kLsaApQt6TyBcqvZiIgFwCREKbhNCwuKpR2TtmMNEIWkd4k4R5eeDnXQSEySZyGT8E_qWkPhAuWI/s1600/DSC_3959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3s_D7c8qxm38vk_RwA74_PcQzvWfoEJRA7TpZQXI6bN9aehuyxsfbnhibHH4BHJ3kLsaApQt6TyBcqvZiIgFwCREKbhNCwuKpR2TtmMNEIWkd4k4R5eeDnXQSEySZyGT8E_qWkPhAuWI/s640/DSC_3959.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peaches up close. She has some bald spots. The pin feathers are three days old so you can also see how quickly those new feathers come back in.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIasUSa_7Q95DPvdhU9sdstnkAh-gltJwlvBr9b_m9NcOvH4oq0Io9mNiOeWsfLhJLByWKxbF2mObU8-22YbiHZWFveBUqvyaNvsCMrWfKsJrCTrCzOSVBCWm_IV2i5d3h5cPe7SNS58/s1600/DSC_3973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCIasUSa_7Q95DPvdhU9sdstnkAh-gltJwlvBr9b_m9NcOvH4oq0Io9mNiOeWsfLhJLByWKxbF2mObU8-22YbiHZWFveBUqvyaNvsCMrWfKsJrCTrCzOSVBCWm_IV2i5d3h5cPe7SNS58/s640/DSC_3973.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peaches has a totally bare bum. She had really soiled most of those feathers any way when she had vent gleet that went untreated for so long so I'm happy that she's going to finally have a fluffy, covered bottom once again.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1NctCnChIJ7wsPILYyaLdrmnWgRZEHeEIoIUM2FdrYQYpb9Lx321jmanzfHp8MhR5g5nag2kKLJSCWF03DksAhLtg3mZskiMhDzdKdsZMUAvU4sMqkXlfUejnmGsVvjeL8AO0jI7BHg/s1600/DSC_3978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1NctCnChIJ7wsPILYyaLdrmnWgRZEHeEIoIUM2FdrYQYpb9Lx321jmanzfHp8MhR5g5nag2kKLJSCWF03DksAhLtg3mZskiMhDzdKdsZMUAvU4sMqkXlfUejnmGsVvjeL8AO0jI7BHg/s640/DSC_3978.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The babies having snacks on the patio. They are so big that sometimes I have to look twice to tell them from the big girls. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyk2VQsUr5zkXZ97R1ple4KovlmmFKArqL-hRLqivV9TqRT3Z3_5aYvWQAn5tB4PucB-J66D_MYG8nGb8JSQMAtIEIlsd8MmTGyetUgUUemEWJZ5M70hlVJ0x3ML4roxqWyi7223IadU/s1600/DSC_4011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyk2VQsUr5zkXZ97R1ple4KovlmmFKArqL-hRLqivV9TqRT3Z3_5aYvWQAn5tB4PucB-J66D_MYG8nGb8JSQMAtIEIlsd8MmTGyetUgUUemEWJZ5M70hlVJ0x3ML4roxqWyi7223IadU/s640/DSC_4011.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The babies working their way through my flower pots.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsaeOCZH4tZVhjyGdyy9pp0Rd_awv1BirsL0VOUaV96TkclYU0w55gYwPLX8lwN84pWeNgP_h3Zq8yzObdnXqLtfycuPOcIFNpp8R3DtyKwQAEHymb1Khbf_Jwu8DbmDMFn4AT4wSjQo/s1600/DSC_4015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXsaeOCZH4tZVhjyGdyy9pp0Rd_awv1BirsL0VOUaV96TkclYU0w55gYwPLX8lwN84pWeNgP_h3Zq8yzObdnXqLtfycuPOcIFNpp8R3DtyKwQAEHymb1Khbf_Jwu8DbmDMFn4AT4wSjQo/s640/DSC_4015.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And a little sun bathing on the warm patio. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK8VHZi7yGcs9zp-CHKHCZh4Y8qtLUu43KJh-dPNJWUzbWSbFLMONV5FA7hPgLc129mgSHo-4CQVBrC022zeE2lNcLf9a2Fwwhh3DwpFt_EZjOIW2T_ldah7NOuOfG5ciF7RPrmQoH7Tc/s1600/DSC_4023.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK8VHZi7yGcs9zp-CHKHCZh4Y8qtLUu43KJh-dPNJWUzbWSbFLMONV5FA7hPgLc129mgSHo-4CQVBrC022zeE2lNcLf9a2Fwwhh3DwpFt_EZjOIW2T_ldah7NOuOfG5ciF7RPrmQoH7Tc/s640/DSC_4023.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rocks and pieces of broken pottery work great for deterring chickens from beaking out soil from flower pots.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRmKlcEDgpy2Ph3PqxJbz7RGol13bK_XqQCYfaFIFYYOlvK1lCXVkcidoSB5zZK5_u0abIcbH_EN6IbJjMfKH63MlWLRo9r4fcCqKl-U5QkRvm-i0o4E-Xp5mG88gQP2-4g2V1iV6cNY/s1600/DSC_4024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXRmKlcEDgpy2Ph3PqxJbz7RGol13bK_XqQCYfaFIFYYOlvK1lCXVkcidoSB5zZK5_u0abIcbH_EN6IbJjMfKH63MlWLRo9r4fcCqKl-U5QkRvm-i0o4E-Xp5mG88gQP2-4g2V1iV6cNY/s640/DSC_4024.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wire rings help protect plants from hungry beaks till they can get established.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAgq731EzyMaEWP_JGjWIdYClUBrrluNZT04Dk45VUzjc8sv5R33IxaT9APswIxOxh3mJSPvpmoVblgULEHjQajh7yFFP5q5ZkGh582ByL99LHfeaokSJTZZP48x4GnvHyr6NCxcx6hyphenhyphen0/s1600/DSC_4030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAgq731EzyMaEWP_JGjWIdYClUBrrluNZT04Dk45VUzjc8sv5R33IxaT9APswIxOxh3mJSPvpmoVblgULEHjQajh7yFFP5q5ZkGh582ByL99LHfeaokSJTZZP48x4GnvHyr6NCxcx6hyphenhyphen0/s640/DSC_4030.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I planted hens and chicks in my strawberry planter and it's finally all filled in.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD79SONkf4IgLUDdDV5WwB0P5wvDAqFY-XQaDNA_l3HaWIIn3eg-WZE9kG21VtJ3Ck8P96HZZ4JuCZqnEWozIFakBjYEyvu_rr8xVuVANx_70sdjr1Cf0a3isNNv-EsxqSpwzMQ8u_vVw/s1600/DSC_4035.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD79SONkf4IgLUDdDV5WwB0P5wvDAqFY-XQaDNA_l3HaWIIn3eg-WZE9kG21VtJ3Ck8P96HZZ4JuCZqnEWozIFakBjYEyvu_rr8xVuVANx_70sdjr1Cf0a3isNNv-EsxqSpwzMQ8u_vVw/s640/DSC_4035.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The babies are losing their juvenile feathers and growing in their adult feathers.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZls4sT4P7l_-gQjl9CNl0d69CwbkbEe-vewsy0gIs0TYL0_bcdjcL-T9_2mFSthiAppZz3LgnRIiDjH7VjxlFdvnEMpLrSaSju1AZJE3LfWO9zaYZSIHgUHtu3dvFMlFKdZKpm2hyphenhyphenqys/s1600/DSC_4038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZls4sT4P7l_-gQjl9CNl0d69CwbkbEe-vewsy0gIs0TYL0_bcdjcL-T9_2mFSthiAppZz3LgnRIiDjH7VjxlFdvnEMpLrSaSju1AZJE3LfWO9zaYZSIHgUHtu3dvFMlFKdZKpm2hyphenhyphenqys/s640/DSC_4038.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And some of Peaches feathers for comparison. Hens typically molt when they are about 18 -24 months old. Peaches is 29 months old. So way over due to replace her worn feathers before winter.</td></tr>
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<br /><br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-15047451055777299002016-07-24T09:13:00.001-07:002016-07-24T15:23:53.753-07:00This week in the garden<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It was a pretty quiet week this week which is nice. I prefer no drama.</div>
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Peaches finished her medicine for vent gleet yesterday and I do see a big improvement in her. Unfortunately, her bottom feathers were so badly soiled that I had to trim quite a few away. So I'm eager for her to molt and go back to having a nice fluffy bottom again. I'll spare you the photos as her bottom is not very attractive right now.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhI0awfjQiQa7yU9QMgIRESEjLZJHtIphcFT_pTunjYAMXR2XzllLNWqeccHCSnnX9YfppjIf3q1EktOEGIfnqHBbENrMk1YhhbiIyd4Cc9XGDpV3CRY0J5O7CrzsEAxjf7VZlsGnWvA/s1600/DSC_3886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhI0awfjQiQa7yU9QMgIRESEjLZJHtIphcFT_pTunjYAMXR2XzllLNWqeccHCSnnX9YfppjIf3q1EktOEGIfnqHBbENrMk1YhhbiIyd4Cc9XGDpV3CRY0J5O7CrzsEAxjf7VZlsGnWvA/s640/DSC_3886.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOCfqRZpHivPApMK_LVwkhxHFSlabV2SMuWZxZlXnfoDnrQ9FfkhC3HZgxgn0E2L1iqZAFqav_FQRcsT5_nBY1FrwT2JvEqZp644Bg2FN_G3zxuNdZZIPv5ErwlMcUKrZENNwJWJp3ew/s1600/DSC_3887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmOCfqRZpHivPApMK_LVwkhxHFSlabV2SMuWZxZlXnfoDnrQ9FfkhC3HZgxgn0E2L1iqZAFqav_FQRcsT5_nBY1FrwT2JvEqZp644Bg2FN_G3zxuNdZZIPv5ErwlMcUKrZENNwJWJp3ew/s640/DSC_3887.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The flowers are all blooming in the garden. The roses are performing well. And my Hens and Chicks are dividing nicely.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OKI4olQaYaRWkA79JwZLzo4xZcdZ0WD70k9QKzkho6XVk42XvJJRLlJKpd_ZoAeVJYBPHkyhL1-8ksD6tEZRMSe0A07karXOnpsdY7cvLf59yYm9iQqitfoirzXnyke4Xk0A-UCVscs/s1600/DSC_3880.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4OKI4olQaYaRWkA79JwZLzo4xZcdZ0WD70k9QKzkho6XVk42XvJJRLlJKpd_ZoAeVJYBPHkyhL1-8ksD6tEZRMSe0A07karXOnpsdY7cvLf59yYm9iQqitfoirzXnyke4Xk0A-UCVscs/s640/DSC_3880.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful Bella just continues to get prettier and prettier. Penny is the black hen in front of her. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWD84gOdesw6YBI5-vsrP_euaamvrLKlh980F5L-gGdg2N3QYZtgyBIedWwS1_bGR_XrxL7Kd5cMmr2Jx19YxCvI_mcIg5iExSqc7OZzk0f2Px3A-ayNfOGjtuHE1zDsctr8pKsmhMkU/s1600/DSC_3882.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPWD84gOdesw6YBI5-vsrP_euaamvrLKlh980F5L-gGdg2N3QYZtgyBIedWwS1_bGR_XrxL7Kd5cMmr2Jx19YxCvI_mcIg5iExSqc7OZzk0f2Px3A-ayNfOGjtuHE1zDsctr8pKsmhMkU/s640/DSC_3882.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hens love this ceramic bowl of water on the patio. I suspect because I fill it with cold water each time I let them out.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWXyFFRfh0_LI82RjeClhMeoL_aVusjiYP1CuDRT5AX7RJiNat-4-ljRBtINdXumqrjddZ0rk7KV0GGM-v4_XTltU3Xa9-e5y0KcKdewOSqg4mIxvk9ooruy4hTZfii-_yP40GeK9YDg/s1600/DSC_3905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGWXyFFRfh0_LI82RjeClhMeoL_aVusjiYP1CuDRT5AX7RJiNat-4-ljRBtINdXumqrjddZ0rk7KV0GGM-v4_XTltU3Xa9-e5y0KcKdewOSqg4mIxvk9ooruy4hTZfii-_yP40GeK9YDg/s640/DSC_3905.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHutuSMBmrBER686NvFOF0-6FzGU6gu-v3ZJ1_TApCKisvaJTkD9oRnTqyAFuCIRie4ljJeWxAcPiKnk4R3J7nJLuNBZ01AZ9DqjGWUKsBJeZfGYVhEKJfXyZrvUG6ilNsLOvRxhFp4o/s1600/DSC_3869.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHutuSMBmrBER686NvFOF0-6FzGU6gu-v3ZJ1_TApCKisvaJTkD9oRnTqyAFuCIRie4ljJeWxAcPiKnk4R3J7nJLuNBZ01AZ9DqjGWUKsBJeZfGYVhEKJfXyZrvUG6ilNsLOvRxhFp4o/s640/DSC_3869.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAl87NJvenWcm5LB8mrN2BzwN4uaCWJzcHNL9_jEajDKPM2KO-N6j3IVjQG2YbcrFCmPZaif2sJTHCz3nVT2oa-Jn-uTPE-3A7_5pW-muey1QBXa-0tYxauikHziewovNS-Z3-IyBwQz8/s1600/DSC_3908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAl87NJvenWcm5LB8mrN2BzwN4uaCWJzcHNL9_jEajDKPM2KO-N6j3IVjQG2YbcrFCmPZaif2sJTHCz3nVT2oa-Jn-uTPE-3A7_5pW-muey1QBXa-0tYxauikHziewovNS-Z3-IyBwQz8/s640/DSC_3908.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My big girls haven't taken a dust bath in the garden in three years. They have a huge dust bathing ring in their run and I think they really like it. But the babies are still learning what's what in the garden and run and they have taken to dust bathing in the garden. It's fun to watch them out there.</td></tr>
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The babies are now 14 weeks old. Just four more weeks and I can open up the fence that keeps them separate from the big girls. They get along just fine out in the garden. I don't let them mingle in their run because I don't want the babies eating the big girls layer feed until they are 18 weeks of age.<br />
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They are getting big and I'm ready to let them all be one big family. It will make it easier on me to get in there and tidy up the run each day if I don't have to work my way around their fencing.<br />
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I'm really happy with this batch of chicks. They are so curious and fun to interact with. Penny, my Black Cochin is a little more shy and timid than I was prepared for. Not sure if that's just a Cochin thing or if something has happened to her to make her a bit skittish. But she sure is sweet and hopefully she'll come around.<br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 33px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 2811px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></span><span style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 33px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 2811px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></span>Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-11355417420232293192016-07-15T08:27:00.002-07:002016-07-15T08:46:31.344-07:00Trust your instinctPeaches has struggled with a dirty bottom for about a year now. A very long and frustrating year.<br />
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When I first discovered her dirty bottom, I tried to treat it myself. I would give her a bath every few days to get her clean. I trimmed back her bottom feathers. But she continued to have a dirty bottom.<br />
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I did some research online and came to the conclusion that she must have Vent Gleet, which is a yeast or fungal infection in the bird.<br />
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I tried to treat her with some of the online suggestions such as yogurt and ACV and while that seemed to help, it didn't clear up her issue.<br />
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I took her to a vet (not my regular vet) and explained her symptoms. The vet looked at a dropping under a microscope and said she didn't see yeast so ruled out Vent Gleet.<br />
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Well, fast forward over a very frustrating year and this week I noticed that her bottom was now red and very irritated from the dropping sticking to the skin. I knew that would go south fast so a trip to the vet, MY VET, was in order.<br />
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I explained all her symptoms and the vet explained how you might not see yeast in the droppings but that doesn't mean she didn't have Vent Gleet. She examined some of her badly soiled feathers and indeed there was yeast.<br />
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So now Peaches has medicine to treat the yeast internally. She also has some special soap and will get a bottom bath every afternoon and after she's dry, she has some special ointment to help sooth the red rash she's sporting.<br />
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I'm angry at myself for not pushing this issue harder. I know my girls best and after 6 years of having hens and doing research, I know a few things about chickens. I knew she had Vent Gleet. I just knew it. I should have taken her to MY vet a long time ago. I just assumed that if one vet said, no yeast, that it must be something else.<br />
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I'm glad we're on the right track to getting her healthy and happy again. And just ahead of when she'll molt so hopefully, this all gets resolved, she molts out those nasty, spent feathers and sports a beautiful, fluffy bottom for the rest of her life.<br />
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My point to all this is to Trust Your Instinct. <br />
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Yes, veterinarians went to school for many more years that I did. But that doesn't mean they always know better. Most vets are generalist or avian specialists. But each bird species has it's own unique set of issues. And sometimes those issues come in many different forms, not just the worse case scenarios that were detailed in text books. Don't hesitate to ask your vet, What about this? And why not that? I'm sure they hate it when you say, well, I read online... But there are people online who are quite knowledgeable about chickens. Yes, there's a lot of misinformation out there too. But information is power. If you don't have a vet that you can have an honest discussion with and ask these questions, then find a new vet.<br />
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I adore my vet. I really do. I'm so glad I found them and have a relationship with them.<br />
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And just one day into treatment, Peaches' bottom already looks better. I'm so thankful that we finally are on the path to resolution with this issue.Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-73744141567229284382016-07-04T09:43:00.001-07:002016-07-04T09:43:40.136-07:00Chickens are the best medicine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Anyone who doesn't laugh at their chickens every day, well, they simply don't have a sense of humor!</div>
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My birds crack me up every day. I'm always laughing out loud at the goofy stuff they do and wondering what on earth must have been going through their little brain.</div>
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Last night I went out to check up on the babies who only learned how to roost last week. My Black Cochin Penny doesn't want to roost. I don't know if there's something wrong or if she's just a late bloomer. You really can't see her but if you look through the legs of the Buff Orpington who's standing up, you can see black and that's Penny.</div>
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But what really had me laughing out loud, was how Belle managed to get her self up on the roost but tucked neatly behind the nest box curtain. I love the look on the BO's faces. It's like they are asking each other, What's she doing? Is that how it's supposed to be done?</div>
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I scooted back into the house to grab my camera and fortunately she was still in the same spot when I came back outside.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAJZPNcc56PBGxDcGCEo38jSvBWpfhtGpk5Tvm4WPsDt6DYz0Pjh37glKNMoQ6T0EccUvnv-_Az3ZUuLXPhRPTGbktAB0zxjCagt23oVtB0fI3OE_52PIlTvIumTQd-9M1pSxWPzwRlA/s1600/DSC_3856.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIAJZPNcc56PBGxDcGCEo38jSvBWpfhtGpk5Tvm4WPsDt6DYz0Pjh37glKNMoQ6T0EccUvnv-_Az3ZUuLXPhRPTGbktAB0zxjCagt23oVtB0fI3OE_52PIlTvIumTQd-9M1pSxWPzwRlA/s640/DSC_3856.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I reached into the coop and scooped up Penny and put her up on the roost next to Bella. But I don't see any droppings under the roost this morning so I suspect she got right down and tucked herself back into the corner of the coop behind the BO's after I left.</div>
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Anyone else have a bird that refused to roost? Did they eventually learn to roost? I supposed it's not the end of the world if she chooses to sleep on the floor of the coop provided I keep her out of the nests.</div>
Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-66535145306896840822016-06-11T21:07:00.001-07:002016-06-11T21:07:19.142-07:00Naughty hens<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Sometimes I think my hens are going to all think their names are Naughty. I don't yell at my chickens. I don't even try to discipline them. Anyone who has chickens gets why this is. You really can't train them not to be naughty. They are going to do what they want to do. What cracks me up is nearly all of the video's I have of my girls, I'm telling one hen or another that they are naughty.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaKLkURtl561-lIaMD2yZf0mSmyJG6-3SztEPNYstMnYWkBBS-F8ERwmzxCiwSR71OJIVx2fSw45jJJa8D9xpYGaj1L6ZqAZ864z_Fc1NR_N-WOeLg1PasHr7tO8CShsg0v1P1dWcQI8/s1600/DSC_3688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaKLkURtl561-lIaMD2yZf0mSmyJG6-3SztEPNYstMnYWkBBS-F8ERwmzxCiwSR71OJIVx2fSw45jJJa8D9xpYGaj1L6ZqAZ864z_Fc1NR_N-WOeLg1PasHr7tO8CShsg0v1P1dWcQI8/s640/DSC_3688.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I went out to tuck everyone in and discovered that the babies had knocked down the cardboard divider I had put up to keep them from sleeping in a nest box. And here they all were. All 6 of them jammed into a 12" by 12" nest. Naughty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpBIyPDdgU0iPisbGWLkHpx8-vwdJGcNPkav2Ejz1T7mds2RLWfMmZsqqOU3Uy7jGJ60QsJR0VSk2nNAbCNy4ONixOM9K_Vs7kGI8zdrdFnKzXCZE8rVv4qd01BR8EoG-94zZpzYlnpM/s1600/IMG_2312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpBIyPDdgU0iPisbGWLkHpx8-vwdJGcNPkav2Ejz1T7mds2RLWfMmZsqqOU3Uy7jGJ60QsJR0VSk2nNAbCNy4ONixOM9K_Vs7kGI8zdrdFnKzXCZE8rVv4qd01BR8EoG-94zZpzYlnpM/s640/IMG_2312.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco is nearly 6 years old and doesn't get enough calcium to put a hard shell on her eggs. So each afternoon, she gets 1/8 tsp of powdered bird calcium w/ vitamin D mixed into a tablespoon of mash. She knows this and expects it and gets very excited when she hears me in the garage mixing it up. The other day, she jumped up on the sink to get to if faster. Naughty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mumtQ3AYfPLQZIYqXJf0jcMEFOVrPu6Yd8WlKQDBgOygjAZbr1AXA-ym5UGF69LQ7yeGb9qm9DONQzkYJoDtXtYHOIMxiM3sGOuQWdmHZxHSU4EKOq0mmlv6iFrXuNS8frE9mXozfjo/s1600/IMG_2315.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_mumtQ3AYfPLQZIYqXJf0jcMEFOVrPu6Yd8WlKQDBgOygjAZbr1AXA-ym5UGF69LQ7yeGb9qm9DONQzkYJoDtXtYHOIMxiM3sGOuQWdmHZxHSU4EKOq0mmlv6iFrXuNS8frE9mXozfjo/s640/IMG_2315.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I let the babies out of their half of the run into the garden for a few hours each afternoon. But what do these two decide to do? Explore the big hens coop. Naughty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisjmRpvWKLxInt-kDKKktHFuwfQ8bXTsAcC31QVIQyXJA4Khb3eqxzgMpgDxSXLSKATPkH6nL6MEEHyFRRGA8MaSBhl6OZjFABAXlMcjGiPVJvfmdHL9Kn4kmdZvPk_8vJixM678RrtGY/s1600/IMG_2318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisjmRpvWKLxInt-kDKKktHFuwfQ8bXTsAcC31QVIQyXJA4Khb3eqxzgMpgDxSXLSKATPkH6nL6MEEHyFRRGA8MaSBhl6OZjFABAXlMcjGiPVJvfmdHL9Kn4kmdZvPk_8vJixM678RrtGY/s640/IMG_2318.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I grew some forage blend grass for the hens and put it in the babies run to see what they would do. Of course, one hen has to stand right in the middle of the pot of grass instead of nibble at it from the sides. Naughty!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28j9wfpNlUViYA_9fILwWfXB1frL6eJtoCMMKoER0fBvB2bVury81VZ01zE-7oqDWBRSXn45ZXWJiVYMwlieijRJ7EsCKBsHNQMZHzd8u4bjgzzsow31_YZ84gDjs1B2NEFG65hYKbus/s1600/IMG_2321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28j9wfpNlUViYA_9fILwWfXB1frL6eJtoCMMKoER0fBvB2bVury81VZ01zE-7oqDWBRSXn45ZXWJiVYMwlieijRJ7EsCKBsHNQMZHzd8u4bjgzzsow31_YZ84gDjs1B2NEFG65hYKbus/s640/IMG_2321.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this has nothing to do with being naughty. I had a few things I was no longer using for the hens and offered them up on our local chicken chat group. This sweet lady from one town over took all of the items and gave me eggs to say thank you. At first I thought it was strange to give eggs to someone who has hens. But I have brown egg layers. She has green, olive and chocolate egg layers. I'm in love w/ the colors in this egg carton.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wwvZrQTTUIPs3DXzVBobMp3oaPNs9zvlSbX8fZSC2gPWV0UqrQ37QN0JRTbyQwdHKcpBd9fYPORMrG6k6zsili_ropfes7lKyR2BeeF2QjcYqkVTBBVV26yjrkJ-M8eYI-sqZAqog2k/s1600/IMG_2325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4wwvZrQTTUIPs3DXzVBobMp3oaPNs9zvlSbX8fZSC2gPWV0UqrQ37QN0JRTbyQwdHKcpBd9fYPORMrG6k6zsili_ropfes7lKyR2BeeF2QjcYqkVTBBVV26yjrkJ-M8eYI-sqZAqog2k/s640/IMG_2325.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And while I've grown used to this image, it is also naughty. The three big girls make their lap around the garden when I let them out. Then they Trick or Treat at the back door. Pecking at the threshold or wiping their beaks on the screen to get my attention to come give them raisins. Notice how I've had to flip my rooster door mat over to the rubber side. The hens are very naughty!</td></tr>
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<a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5267410526498787978%23editor&media=https%3A%2F%2F2.bp.blogspot.com%2F-oc79dL4meaA%2FV1zctxFabOI%2FAAAAAAAADb8%2FXp_j3CxBeoQrdttUnLeAlaJI7WrxbmIFQCLcB%2Fs640%2FIMG_2325.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=u5qchNws_BE6&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 33px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 3254px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5267410526498787978%23editor&media=https%3A%2F%2F2.bp.blogspot.com%2F-oc79dL4meaA%2FV1zctxFabOI%2FAAAAAAAADb8%2FXp_j3CxBeoQrdttUnLeAlaJI7WrxbmIFQCLcB%2Fs640%2FIMG_2325.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=u5qchNws_BE6&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 33px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 3254px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5267410526498787978%23editor&media=https%3A%2F%2F2.bp.blogspot.com%2F-oc79dL4meaA%2FV1zctxFabOI%2FAAAAAAAADb8%2FXp_j3CxBeoQrdttUnLeAlaJI7WrxbmIFQCLcB%2Fs640%2FIMG_2325.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=u5qchNws_BE6&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 33px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 3254px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a><a href="http://www.pinterest.com/pin/create/extension/?url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.blogger.com%2Fblogger.g%3FblogID%3D5267410526498787978%23editor&media=https%3A%2F%2F2.bp.blogspot.com%2F-oc79dL4meaA%2FV1zctxFabOI%2FAAAAAAAADb8%2FXp_j3CxBeoQrdttUnLeAlaJI7WrxbmIFQCLcB%2Fs640%2FIMG_2325.jpg&xm=h&xv=sa1.37.01&xuid=u5qchNws_BE6&description=" style="background-color: transparent; background-image: url(data:image/png; border: none; cursor: pointer; display: none; height: 20px; left: 33px; opacity: 0.85; position: absolute; top: 3254px; width: 40px; z-index: 8675309;"></a>Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-27524268469385743942016-05-29T20:43:00.001-07:002016-05-29T20:43:45.351-07:00Graduation Days<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Well, believe it or not, but the babies are 6 weeks old already. And this week was a big week of graduations.</div>
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They graduated supplemental heat last week. And last Friday I moved them from their brooder box in the garage out to the small coop in the run. I do have them separated from the big girls. And while I'm happy to have them outside, I will readily admit that I miss hearing their peeping chatter from the kitchen.</div>
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They learned how to from from the run out around their protective barrier and into the garden when I open the gate. And the three big hens are very accepting of their new minions. Which makes it easier for me.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkGEhZowiVxJ4NV0jcwph_89BeQsHCxH4fheA4gkGjI7GF9ryZFAGnntofmcpKfJYUWnuJu5eKDAojBQILzQtsIHPjZxIyY5QO28Golfv_2Jm20cYpqS3V_WzTzFpLCA20SDVvpq65O8/s1600/DSC_3511.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKkGEhZowiVxJ4NV0jcwph_89BeQsHCxH4fheA4gkGjI7GF9ryZFAGnntofmcpKfJYUWnuJu5eKDAojBQILzQtsIHPjZxIyY5QO28Golfv_2Jm20cYpqS3V_WzTzFpLCA20SDVvpq65O8/s640/DSC_3511.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the Buff Orpington hens out in the garden.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbodjgpXtrwilLnz1sCzFi2mr2eGCh-7a847QHF0diqKq40uTydeAI9D2mVSnasPZMso8363eizPgi_nmI4PvfXlT2ogUuRH375Fi6ePb4khUOMV2Sb3EWSR8zKVa_DWE8MHymomj8Q4/s1600/DSC_3521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglbodjgpXtrwilLnz1sCzFi2mr2eGCh-7a847QHF0diqKq40uTydeAI9D2mVSnasPZMso8363eizPgi_nmI4PvfXlT2ogUuRH375Fi6ePb4khUOMV2Sb3EWSR8zKVa_DWE8MHymomj8Q4/s640/DSC_3521.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Five of the six babies.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBxA8ukgcZpiOLIYU6Easa73iUs3Urg4jFOe7_I0zp0b8MSzmI329CGQ27Nx4-aVMVUKguR4kKpUEo4pzs99L1zSOX7Nq5t2fJLHC6oAuLS1EtvmpWG593Yyo8DcdSNelyOQ2ZL0tYLo/s1600/DSC_3528.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcBxA8ukgcZpiOLIYU6Easa73iUs3Urg4jFOe7_I0zp0b8MSzmI329CGQ27Nx4-aVMVUKguR4kKpUEo4pzs99L1zSOX7Nq5t2fJLHC6oAuLS1EtvmpWG593Yyo8DcdSNelyOQ2ZL0tYLo/s640/DSC_3528.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny is watching a bird fly over trying to decide if it's friend or foe.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvhyphenhyphenQSYlZdzBL38_K_eng18CTggmCisW2BgqfbhMrBQHYjBhN4BBtlSILGffEVexM6fmfFSN2FGqP3iV6UcQrtgrTB6X1gmYq5p_BZ973vpjkkTmKgc1b0lFLhdQ7td_3X1vCZDL16A64/s1600/DSC_3537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvhyphenhyphenQSYlZdzBL38_K_eng18CTggmCisW2BgqfbhMrBQHYjBhN4BBtlSILGffEVexM6fmfFSN2FGqP3iV6UcQrtgrTB6X1gmYq5p_BZ973vpjkkTmKgc1b0lFLhdQ7td_3X1vCZDL16A64/s640/DSC_3537.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I finally got a new flower pot for my wire chicken planter.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGeXKtJYTym9G2m3H4zkvxlOkOaucbOZaaBGLeYySIXUopNTMc8IM8YIAdrJRIOK6NvTHOs8Ql5oinOYFenGyv-M5-tdXyXeZNg-LDZsLEGUbXTUM4pmKzWD-CgUup8gWfTRtxD07ryg/s1600/DSC_3543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijGeXKtJYTym9G2m3H4zkvxlOkOaucbOZaaBGLeYySIXUopNTMc8IM8YIAdrJRIOK6NvTHOs8Ql5oinOYFenGyv-M5-tdXyXeZNg-LDZsLEGUbXTUM4pmKzWD-CgUup8gWfTRtxD07ryg/s640/DSC_3543.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peaches has the most intense stare.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9CRUU9QLF4IgTG5-jAzWPj7y3FmaDv3oDsWVPMXG0MsYDn4VzH7LiwcLZCaEuwBvA1AVlbdNSmvNjunU5uz_i0ZIisSuDi7Jv3hIKUDHQ0e8gwot3Jme11RiXXsKIxpm30IwJHCcxgo/s1600/DSC_3552.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg9CRUU9QLF4IgTG5-jAzWPj7y3FmaDv3oDsWVPMXG0MsYDn4VzH7LiwcLZCaEuwBvA1AVlbdNSmvNjunU5uz_i0ZIisSuDi7Jv3hIKUDHQ0e8gwot3Jme11RiXXsKIxpm30IwJHCcxgo/s640/DSC_3552.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco hanging out next to my chair on the patio.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1N1eAjNVU1NTCwWefPrhK3AuQ3VY60PmGDXEVWU1kdb6w-w0sjKy_2kvIT-g-ROaNWh551u8tRCJ3nmluMo7yf0SDq4bptbYnT0wOvmjJQrJ5i8xUmRzQt6O67-F94RkVL6VtbOlvlzc/s1600/DSC_3559.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1N1eAjNVU1NTCwWefPrhK3AuQ3VY60PmGDXEVWU1kdb6w-w0sjKy_2kvIT-g-ROaNWh551u8tRCJ3nmluMo7yf0SDq4bptbYnT0wOvmjJQrJ5i8xUmRzQt6O67-F94RkVL6VtbOlvlzc/s640/DSC_3559.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The babies make their way up onto the patio to explore.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin1x4eE8m_Qb2dkqfNuCc3qasQFJhusqOPu4gADWxo8Mowk5-sd9Djck7-64jDCoE94HlxjBaA5fkWeFCgt7f5-cq45t89b5V8WoYRlCP-scIfiv-osup_6QFmNj5_iNz8DQDme4HT2kk/s1600/DSC_3595.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin1x4eE8m_Qb2dkqfNuCc3qasQFJhusqOPu4gADWxo8Mowk5-sd9Djck7-64jDCoE94HlxjBaA5fkWeFCgt7f5-cq45t89b5V8WoYRlCP-scIfiv-osup_6QFmNj5_iNz8DQDme4HT2kk/s640/DSC_3595.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny is the black hen on the right. Bella is the brown one on the left. Bella is the smallest one by far. But she'll likely grow up to be the biggest of the batch.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJ064tRT2kcSq5KPMZnengSbbmeYQczKfbW1hzJ2xWSCU4BjjwaDKs-yKsm2Y5LowXyqhUU4NGwoRF75r7Gq1X0tzP0V6QXLEUVQ5p2IjX1fanm90uWejCJW_N9CHSd_1CDbvPzT_wL4/s1600/DSC_3602.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCJ064tRT2kcSq5KPMZnengSbbmeYQczKfbW1hzJ2xWSCU4BjjwaDKs-yKsm2Y5LowXyqhUU4NGwoRF75r7Gq1X0tzP0V6QXLEUVQ5p2IjX1fanm90uWejCJW_N9CHSd_1CDbvPzT_wL4/s640/DSC_3602.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The big girls most favorite spot is by the sliding glass door.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bCrGMCDEMC4Od-ntJPqCC4qlI348Y_4V3gzV2DdbT8GDJeFzT13wsBOZYCLfxh6RgVKYeDCAIzJNLx1nI-CBtIgDY-Htl9w0YIdb5qpbrq6E4BXsJcJsE3SUpVbiM_2wBySi6HGC3MI/s1600/DSC_3629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1bCrGMCDEMC4Od-ntJPqCC4qlI348Y_4V3gzV2DdbT8GDJeFzT13wsBOZYCLfxh6RgVKYeDCAIzJNLx1nI-CBtIgDY-Htl9w0YIdb5qpbrq6E4BXsJcJsE3SUpVbiM_2wBySi6HGC3MI/s640/DSC_3629.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Coco can't understand why I've only given them half the bag of chopped spinach. She wants the rest of the bag.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKEbJzgyUt6ReQyMwuv1IcWblXaWgrfUssWAZXUoLIdPtL9TV7_8poya__L6dgQpgV_sEu3bOEYCkDye80aPD0lpAsCt8JIVh1NGIZKHCxVuE88oZALVZ0AwOQbWlc6o1O6nOlpRYOug/s1600/DSC_3636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfKEbJzgyUt6ReQyMwuv1IcWblXaWgrfUssWAZXUoLIdPtL9TV7_8poya__L6dgQpgV_sEu3bOEYCkDye80aPD0lpAsCt8JIVh1NGIZKHCxVuE88oZALVZ0AwOQbWlc6o1O6nOlpRYOug/s640/DSC_3636.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pearly digging her way through the Wooly Lambs Ears in the garden. There's good bugging in there.</td></tr>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I still need to teach the babies to come back into the run when I call them. That's going to take a little more work. And they also need to learn how to roost at night. They still sleep in one big pile of birds. But they had a really big week last week so we'll save roosting for next week.</div>
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Can't wait to see them grow into all those feathers.</div>
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-55685863386422505382016-04-30T17:13:00.001-07:002016-04-30T17:13:13.642-07:00One week old babiesWhat a difference one week makes. I can already see that the babies are getting bigger. I wish I had weighed one last week to see how much bigger they are just a week later.<br />
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I put them in the dog crate and took them outside for a bit today. It was sunny and warm and I want the big girls to get to know them too. I stayed close as they can still squeeze through the gaps on the dog crate. I think by next weekend, they won't fit through any more and I can relax a little more.<br />
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But there were two Coopers Hawks circling over the garden the whole time the hens were out. I'm sure they are feeding young this time of the year and that makes me nervous to have the hens outside.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPeoMWzNF_Rsbdh_TQ5iNc1Ujq4VO8S63EpAFKsoE4wDLz2idvB-L-GeD3l2eElrROZAe1HqoVNsKfEvXB3QPsDs8ZMPR2EU_HEXkg2PQRF4eooZ1AQNfIOb0qtCynKHfBxKBWWun_G4/s1600/DSC_3336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkPeoMWzNF_Rsbdh_TQ5iNc1Ujq4VO8S63EpAFKsoE4wDLz2idvB-L-GeD3l2eElrROZAe1HqoVNsKfEvXB3QPsDs8ZMPR2EU_HEXkg2PQRF4eooZ1AQNfIOb0qtCynKHfBxKBWWun_G4/s640/DSC_3336.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Penny is the black one on the left. She's got the most adorable white, fluffy bottom.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTh2ZZQVLKqEU8rg9BtzwRZNZZB5XDA71AzkF86n8MmklhP_SoXLHR7VeC_uq9RwQXdEBznCkYU1aukSiRd_FnmAIlOeNDHksVyPhP2fMrl5Q0cM2Tk05eAb7VM4KjRrkq7AgvwukfTA/s1600/DSC_3339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTh2ZZQVLKqEU8rg9BtzwRZNZZB5XDA71AzkF86n8MmklhP_SoXLHR7VeC_uq9RwQXdEBznCkYU1aukSiRd_FnmAIlOeNDHksVyPhP2fMrl5Q0cM2Tk05eAb7VM4KjRrkq7AgvwukfTA/s640/DSC_3339.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of the BO's is whiter than the others. She's Daisy. But I still can't tell the other three from one another yet.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTHwgmcu2v2dKCw0FkSDzdaA954QqXM2AeW_sa6IS5ON_EpSa8XrAmvs2xVpdIM4RhTuyp6aUfF4MlkQeygKuT8vhrsOqVhnCJmm8s8CW-IZcIKCZn_gtyD5AbuAZM1HIUwu39EPpPng4/s1600/DSC_3345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTHwgmcu2v2dKCw0FkSDzdaA954QqXM2AeW_sa6IS5ON_EpSa8XrAmvs2xVpdIM4RhTuyp6aUfF4MlkQeygKuT8vhrsOqVhnCJmm8s8CW-IZcIKCZn_gtyD5AbuAZM1HIUwu39EPpPng4/s640/DSC_3345.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, that face!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjJ4mbmTkNMjDvTwp2adm9toQcz2ERkz2Yc-jhancK5x1xm2pwlc3JcP43kG6qm7hCz0TaKYZLBx4dgivJt0xN3QedcXot1GyLLgu9lgx4wS2Yp3SgHXhSMuaMUd-qya-s_7XknacuZ8/s1600/DSC_3401.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggjJ4mbmTkNMjDvTwp2adm9toQcz2ERkz2Yc-jhancK5x1xm2pwlc3JcP43kG6qm7hCz0TaKYZLBx4dgivJt0xN3QedcXot1GyLLgu9lgx4wS2Yp3SgHXhSMuaMUd-qya-s_7XknacuZ8/s640/DSC_3401.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love Penny's back and blond face. Even her beak is black on top and blond on the bottom.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGL9g5YhmALoJVWPUfzjxBKCBgMd-Z8Tqepz0hk0OTN4Oh76eBszHjuOYsMKCBWc9IBohTMI0xfdbd3a1KQkk1qNC6KGRajst9Im__AYkC6eoHdBB2fEluhCDkfJajyhoeq_Q30g0hLc/s1600/DSC_3407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdGL9g5YhmALoJVWPUfzjxBKCBgMd-Z8Tqepz0hk0OTN4Oh76eBszHjuOYsMKCBWc9IBohTMI0xfdbd3a1KQkk1qNC6KGRajst9Im__AYkC6eoHdBB2fEluhCDkfJajyhoeq_Q30g0hLc/s640/DSC_3407.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Already their little tails are starting to grow.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjupOiVANX5Yij4hnOkb3ap4lunXWjM_2tk40cOHZCL8nCUsYsuQ1CJTGjLMNwm3eu6iaX3jd9OdrZJSZfjk3dwxwOKwzeVVRmfFIsEfymtASEiwyEuE8V6v3A35STdTM1osKsrOqJP0/s1600/DSC_3439.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKjupOiVANX5Yij4hnOkb3ap4lunXWjM_2tk40cOHZCL8nCUsYsuQ1CJTGjLMNwm3eu6iaX3jd9OdrZJSZfjk3dwxwOKwzeVVRmfFIsEfymtASEiwyEuE8V6v3A35STdTM1osKsrOqJP0/s640/DSC_3439.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Bella. I'm already in love with her feathers.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P0TeOw9ksfDKv8erBR_Gn9bDuSFM7rLIFN92JMrfgGI22q6nk2iHo_TANC2Z4u0MFIUaI8W3uM4UqPhSxpI4XJBuXPOmoa7oYNSudqt46HN-bxLCkvvTz61tRyAT2-FCyhBRtXpD6p0/s1600/DSC_3463.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_P0TeOw9ksfDKv8erBR_Gn9bDuSFM7rLIFN92JMrfgGI22q6nk2iHo_TANC2Z4u0MFIUaI8W3uM4UqPhSxpI4XJBuXPOmoa7oYNSudqt46HN-bxLCkvvTz61tRyAT2-FCyhBRtXpD6p0/s640/DSC_3463.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And at one week of age, they figured out what that saucer of sand/dirt in the corner of their run was for. They had the best time dust bathing together. Hard to imagine that in just a few weeks, not even one of them will fit in this tiny saucer.</td></tr>
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<br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-20161417983724209072016-04-24T09:36:00.000-07:002016-04-24T09:36:55.527-07:00BABIESLosing Pickles was really rough. But as the saying goes, life goes on. I knew I wanted to get more babies. The challenge was working it into my busy schedule.<br />
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I was hoping to get Black Astralorps. I love, love, love my Buff Orpingtons, but I feel like they just don't live as long as some other breeds. I did a ton of research on hens that are quiet, docile, but still good layers. Can tolerate some heat and generally get along with everyone without being a bully. And Black Astralorps seemed to fit that bill.<br />
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But when I called around to find some, I was going to be a least a month before anyone had some locally. When I called my favorite feed store, she said they wouldn't have any until June. And out of the blue she said, "But we're getting a big shipment of Buff Orpingtons in on Saturday." And I knew it was a sign.<br />
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So I picked up four BO's and then found out they had Cochins. So I also got one black and one partridge Cochin for a total of 6 babies.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMf8P-hECuTIOcalvPBXFUjUHseQ5tmRO_X-ca12bPZYFqFke6JpCXnW7QsEgOPGAN-V4kfKKuxpnR93L-Kui6WCjvsT21SNWauxkyLPBMLDLND_g2uBw458bpyE1C1EoN3XuIreARWo/s1600/DSC_3302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisMf8P-hECuTIOcalvPBXFUjUHseQ5tmRO_X-ca12bPZYFqFke6JpCXnW7QsEgOPGAN-V4kfKKuxpnR93L-Kui6WCjvsT21SNWauxkyLPBMLDLND_g2uBw458bpyE1C1EoN3XuIreARWo/s640/DSC_3302.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three of the four Buff Orpington's peeking out from under their electric hen.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWh86YFLy5vfAZSZyVxwIXnDdxMJik1f_Vfr6F9dWlVd0UF40gmry28smh8i_cfPrWU3a5r2yCvCn47P4bBmxPc66GEQ2kIDhmGJqoQnZrGRJFORz9en1M7IQcXC_M48NPkUKpxOJXf4/s1600/DSC_3303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWh86YFLy5vfAZSZyVxwIXnDdxMJik1f_Vfr6F9dWlVd0UF40gmry28smh8i_cfPrWU3a5r2yCvCn47P4bBmxPc66GEQ2kIDhmGJqoQnZrGRJFORz9en1M7IQcXC_M48NPkUKpxOJXf4/s640/DSC_3303.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Partridge Cochin is on the left and the Black is on the right.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Jyu4cQZBcnlzOptFEMSj4YnyUHoZab4yAc-QSYYtEE2Kw02L3GWVGf2-69zyFb-71u3u_bbHsksehmC9a4sPdV4CDUhZy6YpE7sCqJvQkK5r9Lq0jULrPacbVi76lakcyaIHyXwleEQ/s1600/DSC_3319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Jyu4cQZBcnlzOptFEMSj4YnyUHoZab4yAc-QSYYtEE2Kw02L3GWVGf2-69zyFb-71u3u_bbHsksehmC9a4sPdV4CDUhZy6YpE7sCqJvQkK5r9Lq0jULrPacbVi76lakcyaIHyXwleEQ/s640/DSC_3319.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eating is a group sport.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1I_1Ej2dZ44uvcwOl_fpk40iJerlbuU10RCIizgbDtFf3PH5q07sO3XinXGohpKbhlbg8UczfkbYYE5mlceEIZpI8n9gXgdmTvEKNo1OQ-axolSfXRbyipI0VDi9SGNn_oANB-WjpZk/s1600/DSC_3326+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk1I_1Ej2dZ44uvcwOl_fpk40iJerlbuU10RCIizgbDtFf3PH5q07sO3XinXGohpKbhlbg8UczfkbYYE5mlceEIZpI8n9gXgdmTvEKNo1OQ-axolSfXRbyipI0VDi9SGNn_oANB-WjpZk/s640/DSC_3326+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was the best group shot I could get. They were really shy the first day home. These little guys go through a lot after hatching to get to their home. Already today, they are so much more active. </td></tr>
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<br /><br />Flock Mistresshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13655524576977244762noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5267410526498787978.post-39060688343562301552016-03-04T15:04:00.001-08:002016-03-04T15:04:05.666-08:00Good bye sweet Pickles<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
It's with a very heavy heart that I sit here and blog that we lost sweet Pickles today.</div>
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There was something always off about that little bird. I had my suspicions that she wasn't right. But she strut around the garden with her tail held high. She scratched, she dust bathed, she ate, she drank and a few days a week, she'd reward us with a teeny, tiny egg.</div>
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Wednesday morning I noticed that she had caught her comb on something and tore it. I treated it with ointment but she really tore it and kept shaking it which kept causing it to tear and I knew that it needed proper medical attention. So I took her off to my favorite vet. The vet said it was an easy fix, she'd give her a puff of gas to put her to sleep and put several stitches in the comb to secure it and keep it from flopping around.</div>
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But as soon as she received the gas, she stopped breathing and despite the vets best efforts, she never came around. A mini necropsy confirmed what I had always suspected. She had a big mass on her ovary. Another one some where else inside her. Her lungs were badly scarred indicating she had a chronic case of pneumonia. And her liver was just a mess. I'm amazed that she acted so happy and healthy after learning all this.</div>
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Here's hoping she's in a better place and no longer suffering. I will miss you sweet Pickles. You were a very special little bird.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4fsHXg6B75Nry7bXAZ1Ml0DNV1OCzSo1xwHGce7F0Ng4azOYv-63bWbTiezdmBwEwmhEp5Ou-DaRNWmmV3B5y4K8gXHf1QkJo7ihp5UGBEy0avc7CROd_LaQrht7ROpFM4TCwa8gKqJc/s1600/DSC_1358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4fsHXg6B75Nry7bXAZ1Ml0DNV1OCzSo1xwHGce7F0Ng4azOYv-63bWbTiezdmBwEwmhEp5Ou-DaRNWmmV3B5y4K8gXHf1QkJo7ihp5UGBEy0avc7CROd_LaQrht7ROpFM4TCwa8gKqJc/s640/DSC_1358.jpg" width="424" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She always wanted to know what you were doing.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD8gqLdKSR0pAmAQJ8wInvm9ZQ_Kwb2z8ZNeF8amM9bbgLW8j8fyhiO0S_VumiUnJyhfRG9dVsWFpCl7elNP9LxEmNfHRSiJCilZ1_SN0LkLlR_aeHub06wFj43vCs6WPr50IRvns7ho/s1600/DSC_2081.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD8gqLdKSR0pAmAQJ8wInvm9ZQ_Kwb2z8ZNeF8amM9bbgLW8j8fyhiO0S_VumiUnJyhfRG9dVsWFpCl7elNP9LxEmNfHRSiJCilZ1_SN0LkLlR_aeHub06wFj43vCs6WPr50IRvns7ho/s640/DSC_2081.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Never had a feather out of place. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGrawIaNAzz1ZucdaEhj2vdQFZvo_wH4RQMD4Zt1VdlVhhQ_oFAQ2uOgGlSZ7Mgg1dKuEazsI4XbojiPYivIxfoQGY1Q1njcUPQpkY-VXT1WyFmqzQjwcUF4UUnUxprxOVcjsWWVWuGjw/s1600/DSC_2105.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGrawIaNAzz1ZucdaEhj2vdQFZvo_wH4RQMD4Zt1VdlVhhQ_oFAQ2uOgGlSZ7Mgg1dKuEazsI4XbojiPYivIxfoQGY1Q1njcUPQpkY-VXT1WyFmqzQjwcUF4UUnUxprxOVcjsWWVWuGjw/s640/DSC_2105.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She might not have a feather out of place but she ALWAYS had a dirty beak. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6m4mV6dxqPKAIUu1lrDPp1OocTVCT4Hp_OxACFlBoFiOWS-69e0K9JdFiPYf5_BVRRbzR-xCBFlbrHilB0C1RJmMxQbJISNtqdIubV9Q_aFCbE0GEdBo31K7cSJnbEddAmAzS-auDI0/s1600/DSC_2237+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6m4mV6dxqPKAIUu1lrDPp1OocTVCT4Hp_OxACFlBoFiOWS-69e0K9JdFiPYf5_BVRRbzR-xCBFlbrHilB0C1RJmMxQbJISNtqdIubV9Q_aFCbE0GEdBo31K7cSJnbEddAmAzS-auDI0/s640/DSC_2237+%25281%2529.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of my most favorite photos of her. Life Imitating Art!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NOpqw3AnHQ5NCetijlzD3fs7w7VZTyO0WWDYs-PPlSFG1q-bqm-bGahzdEfwJcvd6uZ-qLjzWtzSkUVmg_w8waGrd0lAiSOMRAqwV9OuQo-py3nQGCwTAk3NrksWwkNYP-CU4x3ZidQ/s1600/DSC_2390.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9NOpqw3AnHQ5NCetijlzD3fs7w7VZTyO0WWDYs-PPlSFG1q-bqm-bGahzdEfwJcvd6uZ-qLjzWtzSkUVmg_w8waGrd0lAiSOMRAqwV9OuQo-py3nQGCwTAk3NrksWwkNYP-CU4x3ZidQ/s640/DSC_2390.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The last photo I took of Pickles. She's the one in the middle facing Coco. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSE3Adrh1g0Mud38-UTdWSVPRAGgxEigCUEaDDtOMd2RRJLkT3Hn-KO2XUWJq80-KIEux2wF_e3vxQ8PmTKkyCvGXlg10VP92pf4iha2e1UNzn9fJcqlr0Xwbq57L7M2O6ixcVYEby7sg/s1600/IMG_1273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSE3Adrh1g0Mud38-UTdWSVPRAGgxEigCUEaDDtOMd2RRJLkT3Hn-KO2XUWJq80-KIEux2wF_e3vxQ8PmTKkyCvGXlg10VP92pf4iha2e1UNzn9fJcqlr0Xwbq57L7M2O6ixcVYEby7sg/s640/IMG_1273.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure which one she is but she was one of the four Peeps.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXQGJG3p84laSB8iq4wbA8PBKVm8SuQMmgvswHsJ9GzmdiUKrqHB6ZjXPFmo9NpRtpQJrWgI8IRgMJT_uXENCVCmJ51x4Ph_bjddua_gww6FJYcUVG09g3qu44FXuHHTYsWDjDB7FhIo/s1600/IMG_1517.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYXQGJG3p84laSB8iq4wbA8PBKVm8SuQMmgvswHsJ9GzmdiUKrqHB6ZjXPFmo9NpRtpQJrWgI8IRgMJT_uXENCVCmJ51x4Ph_bjddua_gww6FJYcUVG09g3qu44FXuHHTYsWDjDB7FhIo/s640/IMG_1517.jpg" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Pickles tiny little egg compared to one of her sister's large egg.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-hktN22jFzssBmxQ61rwN-B8PBj_3vvPr91IKkLku-z7Rw3fT8kRcEGk-J4DKHVvZH8fW24YPHOPE6sIgRcNeX7iCpGZraYXD5tMG1fJpzg0PLdCPB7GGpsF8CQ0FnCSNQqHM5M5W-E/s1600/IMG_1761.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6-hktN22jFzssBmxQ61rwN-B8PBj_3vvPr91IKkLku-z7Rw3fT8kRcEGk-J4DKHVvZH8fW24YPHOPE6sIgRcNeX7iCpGZraYXD5tMG1fJpzg0PLdCPB7GGpsF8CQ0FnCSNQqHM5M5W-E/s640/IMG_1761.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She LOVED to smell the roses.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtlyz_vM7L-LimlcFrwlWoi6lHmDOAlLBMpPaZft7m5VRBxoAd2AWJJQBc9_VRnuP9D3Y86ydPjXeChU7cpHc7EXadj6pXy1E-Vajs_Oi_EPGrnKh9WRSZh7O7jE5dLVqE64zbQXYClw/s1600/IMG_1894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgtlyz_vM7L-LimlcFrwlWoi6lHmDOAlLBMpPaZft7m5VRBxoAd2AWJJQBc9_VRnuP9D3Y86ydPjXeChU7cpHc7EXadj6pXy1E-Vajs_Oi_EPGrnKh9WRSZh7O7jE5dLVqE64zbQXYClw/s640/IMG_1894.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And she loved a dust bath in the sun. Especially, when she had the bath all to herself.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vg9gLFnIbXCqWiyrInl2UbH9VeoSSoMQ-_cPrn7B386Ou4BJITFWrLWtLppGbqnQKWXxseJF9ppa7YAkrMHAhK3OWb5rddrI6rhWIcTSK5HPhdUcPwMFvTAKlIuvOR96585Of9u3PEg/s1600/IMG_2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1vg9gLFnIbXCqWiyrInl2UbH9VeoSSoMQ-_cPrn7B386Ou4BJITFWrLWtLppGbqnQKWXxseJF9ppa7YAkrMHAhK3OWb5rddrI6rhWIcTSK5HPhdUcPwMFvTAKlIuvOR96585Of9u3PEg/s640/IMG_2019.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She LOVED this pot of forage blend I grew for the hens. And she always had to stand on top to eat.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzaXV4fd6a2ztLWp3Qut1KEyDmKrAnYNNu5m2ECIq93hvRxUrwbh570OH6cALLVozvNPNnb0MhDJZnljtiMGuM7qNQN24Z-UXkKsS2OOkiqZV2fyb-vFHGP1plglBnDhsBDbg6WBStXts/s1600/IMG_1977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzaXV4fd6a2ztLWp3Qut1KEyDmKrAnYNNu5m2ECIq93hvRxUrwbh570OH6cALLVozvNPNnb0MhDJZnljtiMGuM7qNQN24Z-UXkKsS2OOkiqZV2fyb-vFHGP1plglBnDhsBDbg6WBStXts/s400/IMG_1977.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is a card that someone gave me. It is exactly how I picture Pickles. A fairy princess with her tiara properly on top of her head just floating through life. Always be fabulous Pickles. Live up to your name.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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