Chicken Nipples

I know what you are thinking. "Chickens don't have nipples." Not that kind!

Nipples over Red

This is a Chicken Nipple:

My clever Reds and Oreo like water. They poo in it every chance they get. But I am in possession of opposable thumbs and a larger brain, so I set out to eliminate their water pollution situation.

I tried hanging a rabbit waterer in the run. They first used this as little chicks in the fancy brooder cage. Given the chance to peck something semi-new, they pecked at it, got a drop of water, and despite their chickeny astonishment, pecked at it again.

Thus encouraged, I ordered the aforementioned Nipple Waterer kit. I also ordered an 11/32" drill bit to install it. They are supposed to be hard to find, but I found one easily enough: 

It was easy to drill the holes in the bottom of a plastic bucket and suspend the bucket where the chickens could imbibe. The harder part was getting them to drink.

Half of the Reds were smart enough to drink from the nipples.

Smart Reds drink without soiling their water

Oreo fell in with the non-smart Reds. In a later experiment she demonstrated a willingness to die of thirst before she would consider drinking from the water source every other chicken was using.

Dumb looks are free

The rest of the flock preferred to drink the poo tea they made every morning from the fresh water I provided.

They say the fittest shall survive. Yet the unfit may live.

OK, so I got outsmarted by poo-pullets. But at least the flock gets clean water when they have absolutely no other choice.

First Occupant in New Coop

The New Coop is done-ish.

I gave the coop a metal roof. I managed to put the last screw into it just as the rain started.

Roof installed in the nick of time

Doc and I worked feverishly the next day, enjoying the Texas sun and heatstroke. We completed the drip edge, hardware cloth, door latch, and run fencing. We decided to test the coop with one chicken. Jailbird Vo volunteered.

Vo enjoying her own private coop

We constructed a cheesy sliding pop door. The hardware cloth impedes the door and the pull string will have to be replaced with something better.

Dodgy Door

After some perfunctory exploration, Jailbird Vo pooped on the sand to make sure it was working. Then she settled in for the night on her mini-pallet roost.

Fancy roost

When we ventured out in the morning, Vo was still in the coop -- alive and well. This was at least partly due to the vermin trap being occupied by a nocturnal trespasser.

Pre-occupied vermin trap

We plan to put the poultry netting over the run ASAP so the chicks can have some elbow room.

Broody Hatching -- Learning the Routine

My broody Buff Orpington started with a clutch of 8 eggs, which got consumed by some unidentified stealthy predator. I converted the Chicken Jail into an upstairs broody nest and set her up with four more eggs.

After some hasty experimentation, I have developed a brilliant plan for their daily routine. My flock, ever so fond of change, has started reluctantly adapting. In the process they have found new ways to express their annoyance and disgust and irritation and chickeny rage.

Most things stay the same. I open the coop at the crack of noon. Mr. Big leads De and Vo into the pen for a bit of dust bathing and snacking on any treats I may have provided. Buffy stays on her nest and gives me the stink eye while I gather eggs from the downstairs nest. She fluffs and squawks and pecks when I lift her up to look at her eggs to make sure there are eggs under her and not a snake or an empty spot.

I return to the coop in the late afternoon and lead the flock to the tractor so they can feast upon weeds and leaves and blackberries and bugs and invisible bits of deliciousness. Mr. Big has learned the routine already and proudly leads the girls straight to the tractor. Oh the chickeny joy!

Once they are situated I shut myself in the pen and screw up my courage to face Buffy. Once again she fluffs and squawks and pecks when I lift her up. When I set her down, she fluffs and huffs as I close the side door of the broody cage. Then she fluffs and squawks and pecks when I lift her up and carry her to the snack bar in the pen.

Once outside she snaps out of her trance. She drinks and preens and eats and preens and preens and drinks and preens and drops an enormous stinky broody poo.

While she is busy I block off the eggless but oh-so-desirable bottom nest. When she is ready, she walks up the new ladder into the broody cage and settles back on her nest.

Then, just as darkness approaches I close up the broody cage, open the pen, and release the others. If I am a little late, Mr. Big will have some choice words for me. Then he hastily leads them back into the coop for a good night.

At least, that is how it is supposed to go....


Update: Gave up on the tractor once the flock got an Easter scare. Just have to juggle a grumpy hen while keeping an eye on a perturbed rooster.

Stupid Poo Tricks

My chickens seem to take perverse pleasure in making a mess with their poo. Here are some of their stupid poo tricks. No pictures, you freak.

• In the water bowl
• In the food trough
• On the food board
• Down the fence
• At the entrance to the chicken run
• In the middle of the path between the food can and the feeding area in the run
• Down the chicken ladder
• In the nest
• On the eggs
• Right inside the people door of the chicken coop
• Blue poo (from purple lettuce)
• Red poo (from pepper flakes)

Update: Pictures, for science!