Stink Eye, the Chickeny Look of Disapproval

Chickens are expressive creatures. They let you know when they are content. They let you know when they are frustrated. They let you know when they are hungry.

But when they want you to know they are very displeased with you, they have a special expression. They give you the Stink Eye.

When Vo was forced to test drive the new coop, she expressed her displeasure with being unceremoniously relocated.

How dare you disturb my repose!

The chicks, new to the facial expression thing, looked a little more disappointed than disapproving when the treats did not leap from my hands into their pen.

How could you?

Mr. Big, always vocal with his opinions, was not at all pleased to be pushed away from the yogurt bowl when there might still be a speck or two in there.

Yogurt makes a delicious fashion accessory

Buffy, another vociferous bird, wants nothing more than to be free of all constraints that keep her from anything she desires, such as world domination or fried mealworms.

Preciousssss!

But De is the Queen of the Stink Eye. Mere proximity offends her. I went to close the coop one night and got a full blast from her. I ran like a fraidy cat.

Begone foodless human!

I bet you would have run away too.

Finally got some rain

Last night it rained. Oh the chickeny joy!

The drought and heat has been hard for everybody. Spraying with the hose helped bring down some of the heat exhaustion, but I sure collected a lot of stink eyes.

We finally got rain (and lost power). But we had rain! And the weather shield of tarps and plastic sheet worked!

When I let the chickens out the ground was not dusty. They were puzzled by the unfamiliar lack of bathing material, but worked over the run anyway.

Broody Separation Anxiety

Buffy the broody hen has gone from violent nest protector to overprotective mother hen. The chicks are a month old and she has started getting used to being excluded from the chick tractor during the day.

At the end of the day I open the tractor. Some chicks make a break for it, flying out of the top hatch. Other chicks act like ninnies and stand in a far corner looking confused. The rest wait for me to lift the side of the tractor and run to their mother.

Getting ready for bed

Month old chicks and a full grown hen make for a very crowded brooder cage. Since I have not finished the new coop yet, I thought I could get away with evicting Buffy from the cage. Oh the chickeny distress!

Buffy on the roost

Chicks in the brooder

Did I mention the chickeny distress? Let me say that chickens express separation anxiety vigorously.

Buffy ran up the brooder ladder and stood outside the cage squawking. She flew to the other side of the coop and looked for a nonexistent back door and squawked some more. She tried to get on top of the cage and made a big fuss. She tried going into the downstairs nest box and looking up and squawking. The chicks and the other chickens joined in the cacophony. Mr. Big even gave me the stink eye.

Finally, relenting to their demands, I opened the brooder cage door for Buffy. She flew up the ladder and landed in a pile of chicks. After one group squawk silence fell on the coop. Oh the chickeny joy!

Buffy and the chicks in the brooder

Getting a cuddle from mom

The chicks gathered around their mother, gave me an angry glare, and then cuddled up for the night.

Early Easter Bunny Visit

My chickens had started their lives with me with daily access to an open-top chicken run. Then they decided to free range themselves.

Free range was OK for a while. They happily turned my yard into a shredded wasteland of unpalatable weeds and chicken poo. When hawks started visiting I covered their pen with bird netting, but still let them free range every few days.

Then nature caught up with us. A hawk killed two of the hens. So I stopped the free range activity and kept them penned up all the time. This caused some chickeny frustration, though they did eventually adapt, leading to a lot of fertilized eggs.

Recently I let them spend some time in a tractor. They were cooperative for a couple visits. Then they decided they would rather free range. Oh the chickeny joy! For three full minutes they paraded around their old run , squawking and scratching and pecking and gobbling up weeds and seeds and bugs and leaves and invisible bits of deliciousness. I saw no hawks, so I decided to roll with it.

Just as suddenly they decided they did not want to free range at all. They raced to the pen in the most dignified manner possible, like a bunch of chubby mall-walkers in spandex. Dumbfounded, I stared at them. They looked at me. Then they looked at each other. Then they looked at me again.

Casting about, I spied the terrible threat that made them run for safety. It was a single rabbit, complete with twitching nose and chewing on a bit of grass.

I tried to explain it was not the Easter Bunny, but they were having none of it and guarded their eggs with zealous pacing and stink eyes.

Fowl Mouth Rooster

My rooster, Mr. Big, has a fowl mouth.

If I do not open the pop door early enough he will growl his displeasure.

If I spend too much time around his ladies he will crow at me. This touches off another round of rooster hazing.

If I bring them a treat that is not quite delicious enough or properly presented, he will grump and huff.

Last night I really crossed the line. I went into the yard to get a bucket to build a rat trap. Apparently, he saw me coming and ushered the flock into the coop.

When I did not show up to close the pop door, he stuck his head out and cussed me thoroughly. Chastened, I hustled over the the coop. He gave me the stink eye, turned his back, and stalked into the coop.

Unhappy with my service, he did not leave a tip.