New coop for the happy couple

Ah chickeny romance!

Once upon a time, Psycho the feather-pecking pullet, was imprisoned in the newly constructed chicken run. There she lived in tragic isolation, waiting for her prince to arrive and sweep her off her feet.

Then one day, out of the blue, a brightly colored cockerel showed up at her gate. He danced his "Hey Baby" dance. He crowed his crackly Junior crow. He even graciously ran away from Mr. Big when he felt the fence might not be strong enough to hold him back.

As soon as Psycho's gate was opened, Junior made himself at home. He showed her where her food dish was. He scratched up bugs and held them up for her. He even verified the comfort and safety of her roost.

The one thing the happy couple lacked was a cozy chicken coop to call their own. Luckily the new farm hand, Fireman Guy Montag, knew how to drill and caulk.

Guy and I start construction on chickeny love shack

Doc just completed a horse fence project, so we had a lot of salvaged wood. I scrounged up hardware cloth, a 3x5 cement board, and some fence pales.

Guy caulked the gaps

I bought a pre-cut 2x2 treated plywood door from Lowes. Smart move! It is actually square!! This made installing hinges and hanging the door soooooo much easier.

Doc and Guy weatherproofed the coop after this pic

Alone at last!

We furnished the coop with a 2x6 roost, a dog bowl of layer crumbles, a water bottle, and a covered cat box for nesting. Junior liked the roost. Psycho liked the crumbles.

Oh the chickeny joy!

Egg Overload -- Making the Quiche of Awesomeness

We are swimming in eggs. Our backlog is up to 16 dozen and the pullets are not slowing down. The Perfect Hard Boiled Eggs made a dent, but we just could not eat them fast enough. Pro Tip: Peel and eat with a few drops of Cholula Hot Sauce.

But Doc is very resourceful and identified a glorious egg recipe. It was so delicious that I believe I have now experienced the human version of Chickeny Joy that comes from yogurt and oats.

Behold the Quiche of Awesomeness!

Too awesome to wait for pictures

How to Make the Quiche of Awesomeness
Thaw out two bricks of frozen spinach.
Microwave a pound of bacon. Blot and crumble.
Mix 6 eggs, 1.5 cups of heavy cream, a pinch of sea salt, and a quarter teaspoon of pepper in a blender.
Put pie crust dough (Doc used Pillsbury pre-made dough sheet) in a stoneware pie plate.
Add spinach, bacon, and a layer of smoked gouda cheese slices.
Pour the egg mix on top.
Bake for 35 to 45 minutes at 375 degrees.

Oh the bacony joy!

New Chicken Run

My nephews and their friend came down to Texas and  gave me an awesome gift -- a new chicken run!

Doc recently replaced all the horse fences so we had an abundance of used fence posts and wire. Glen chopped down the small forest of weeds in the target location. Russell showed me how to get stubborn staples, nails, and screws out of 15 year old posts. Bon figured out the best way to pull fence wire.

First we set the posts, parallel to the existing pasture fence. I finally got to use my post level. I also learned that very wet cement does not hold posts as firmly as I would like.

Pretty much vertical posts

Then we pulled farm fence wire, stapled it down, and screwed in 2x6 planks to support the top and block the bottom. We tried using a come-along attached to rebar to pull the fence taut, but found that levering it tight with a 2x4 against a post was much more effective.

More important to follow the ground than look pretty

Finally we tied deer netting to the top of the run using baling twine. It was getting late, so we only tied it down in a few places. Another item for my To Do List....

Deer netting to keep hawks out and chickens in

We hazed the flock into the new run. They raced across the open area, full mosey ahead. Once inside, they set to exploring.

Mr. Big leads the inspection crew

They tested the nest box for fit and comfort.

A fine place to lay an egg

And then they settled in for feasting and forage.

A Red, Oreo, and De at dinner

The flock scratched and clucked and ate pellets, crumbles, plants, bugs, and whatever else caught their fancy. Oh the chickeny joy!

UPDATE: The new run has a new coop and a new chicken!

Perfect Hard Boiled Eggs

Oreo and the Reds are in full production, despite the season. Doc and I are swimming in eggs. So we make hard boiled eggs.

Not every egg is perfect. Filthy eggs and ground eggs go straight to the reject bin. We also got one enormous egg from Vo and a tiny "fart egg" from a Red. But until winter sun started cutting in to production, we had a backlog of 10 dozen eggs on the counter.

Vo made the giant egg. A Red made the yolkless "fart egg".

Thanks to aggressive hard-boiled egg consumption, we are down to a more comfortable backlog. In the process, Doc has mastered the art of making the Perfect Hard Boiled Egg.

Even after feasting, we have a big backlog of eggs.

Start with old eggs at room temperature. We use eggs that have been on the counter for just over two weeks. Refrigerated store bought eggs average about 60 days old, so you are fine to boil them after a few minutes of warming on the counter top.


Seven Steps to Perfect Hard Boiled Eggs

1. Clean the eggs to remove any dirt or nastiness that might give them a funky flavor.
2. Fill a pan with room-temperature water. Doc uses a Wok.
3. Add one or two dozen eggs to the water.
4. Turn the stove top to high heat.
5. Set the timer for 15 minutes to get 10-12 minutes of boil time.
6. Place eggs in ice water using a slotted spoon.
7. After 5 minutes, dry and refrigerate.

Hot eggs melted all the ice.

The boil time varies by altitude. To find the right amount of time for your conditions, test your first hard boiled egg before you chill the rest. Chill it for a few seconds and peel it as soon as you can. Cut the egg in half. If the white is solid and the yolk is solid yellow, you have made perfect hard boiled eggs. If the white or yolk is a little runny, they are still soft boiled and you need to let the others boil for another minute or two (be sure to test again). If the yolk is green, you have boiled the eggs too long and the others need to be removed now.

Now it is time to enjoy your hard boiled eggs. They are wonderful as a breakfast sandwich with mayo. They are a delight with marinara and linguine. They are a convenient nutritious snack at any time.

Oh the chickeny joy!

Tis the Season for Chicken Gifts

Here are some gift ideas for you. Oh the chickeny joy!

Chicken toys -> here.

Storey's Guide is the chicken book. 


There is also the Dummies book.



Cool calendar. Get yours today!



Cool sign.


My driveway needs this sign.


I have a metal rooster. Maybe I should get this too?

Pullet Pizza Party

Doc and I had a fierce craving for a vegetarian Margherita Pizza. We raced to the local purveyor of pie and greedily consumed our treat, clucking over the good parts and stuffing ourselves silly.

We took the remaining slices home for the flock. I carefully crept up the to fence and lifted the poultry netting. The birds circled me, screaming for the awesome deliciousness they were sure I would soon provide.

I dropped a slice into the chicken run. They greedily consumed the treat, clucking over the good parts and stuffing themselves silly.

De was a little skeptical at first, but ready to try it.

De starts with the thin end

One of the red pullets moved in to investigate this alien morsel.

"Share" is not a chickeny concept

The rest of the chicks were ferocious. The instantly closed in and stripped the flesh off the pizza, leaving nothing but bones sinking to the bottom of the run.

School of deadly chickens

Pizza carcass, stripped in seconds

It was a grisly sight. But oh, the chickeny joy!

Cool white roof

Doc and I, with help from some likely youths, constructed a coop for the chicks. It has wire walls and shade cloth to keep the chicks cool. But with Texas temps going over 100, more thermal control was needed.

We tried a mister. It has worked well, but the soil, dry from 5 inches of rain in 7 months, has gone into stinky decomposition overdrive. And still the birds are slow roasting in the coop....

But my nephew arrived for a visit. Free labor, hooray!

We moved Jailbird Vo and the chicks into the adult pen. Buffy gave them a warm welcome.

Say hello to my little friend

Once the red chicks outnumbered the adults, things got calmer. The chicks liberated the mister and the adults withdrew to the coop to sulk about today's youth and their lack of respect.

Chicks in the mist

With the chicks squared away, we set to work on the roof. The nephew and I mounted ladders and braved the entangling poultry net of doom.

Only a fool would put a poultry net over of roof before painting it. Sadly, I am that fool.

There must be a better way

We used up a can of gummy white primer, sealing holes, covering metal, and sometimes painting the net. An hour on the ladders was all we could stand, so we declared victory and hastened to the house for iced tea.

Not as bad as I feared

We put the chicks back and fed them treats. Oh the chickeny joy!

The white roof cut the coop temperature by 5-10 degrees. Now the hot chicks are cool. Aaaaaaaay!

Chicks Demand the Spice

The spice must flow! As worms threatened production, Doc suggested worming the chickens with red pepper flakes. It was such a big hit that we used up the entire bottle of pepper flakes in just a couple days.

To make sure the chicks got their fair share, I have started keeping Buffy outside the chick tractor during the day. She orbits the tractor, eating adult food. They stay inside consuming chick starter and treats.

To each their own

Ever frugal, I noticed that I could get a lot of fresh jalapeños for only a few cents. I gleefully purchased a bag of jalapeños and Doc chopped some up for the chicks. Naturally, they ran in abject terror upon first sighting the horrible invading veggie. But soon, they were demanding their daily delicious green treat. Oh the chickeny joy!

Stalking the wild pepper

Texas chicks demand hot stuff

They demand their chick starter also.

Crunchy starter is crunchy

It must taste better in the middle

Actually, they are just demanding.

Stinky Compost Surprise

There was a really bad smell in the coop. For a couple weeks it just got worse and worse. I would open the coop door and my eyes would begin to water.

At first I blamed Buffy, then I blamed the other hens. I looked underneath the coop for a spoiled egg or a sewage treatment plant. I searched every corner of the coop for a rotten egg.

Finally I gave up and just accepted that I could do nothing about the stench. Then I stepped out of the coop and tripped over a bucket next to the door. For a moment I thought an unwashed genie had just been released from a 1000 year old lamp. As my vision cleared I realized I was sprawled in the chicken pen with something truly stinkerrific next to me.

Compost in all the wrong places

As Doctor Dolittle gagged, I picked myself up and moved the bucket downwind. Inside I found a foul-smelling ecosystem of horse supplement and hay transformed by bacteria and water into a festering nursery for some kind of insect. After snapping a picture for science, I foolishly knocked the recalcitrant unidentifiable gunk out with a couple sharp taps. The pungent stuff caused Doc and I to flee the area.

Might have been horse vitamins once

I forced my way back through the foul fog. As I brought a shovel to bear, I realized I was not alone in my battle against the stinky compost. The flock was digging and scratching and clucking and eating maggots. Oh the chickeny joy!

Maggots are yummy?

As I watched in amazement, De sifted through the maggoty muck, mixing it with clean dirt and eating every one of the baby bugs. Seeing that the situation was under control, I bravely ran away.

While I felt a little strange about the source, the next day's egg was really delicious.

Chick Jailbreak and Improvised Nest Box

My chicks have been living in brooder cage splendor for nearly two weeks. Every day Doctor Dolittle helps me collect chicks and deposit them in their chick tractor for exercise and treats. Today they had other plans....

Maybe they were inspired by last night's rearrangement of the coop interior. Maybe they were invigorated by the glorious weather. Maybe they watched Shawshank Redemption last night.

Since Doc was busy, I was on my own collecting chicks. I got the first one and went out to the chick tractor. Sensing the opportunity, they sprang into action.

*thud* *pop*pop*pop*pop*pop*pop*

Buffy and the chicks executed their mass jailbreak plan. I returned to the coop to find it occupied by the riotous mob. Buffy was excitedly scratching and clucking and pecking and eating delicious bits of dropped food overlooked by her sisters. The chicks were blissfully scratching and peeping and pecking and eating delicious bits of dropped food overlooked by the adults. Oh the chickeny joy!

Feathery mob escapes chick jail

I hastily collected a chick and put it in the tractor.

Following her lead

I got four chicks confined to the tractor. When I collected the fifth, Buffy took note and gave chase. The angry hen and two little accomplices chased me out of the coop and around the tractor as I hastily deposited their little sister.

Buffy and chick at large

We furiously circled the tractor until I could improvise a barricade for the chicks and distract Buffy with treats. Mr. Big and De and Vo came to watch, eating their own treats like popcorn-munching moviegoers. I caught Buffy, placing her in with the chicks, and peace reigned in the chicken pen. Oh the chickeny joy!

Remembering the bucket on the coop floor, I returned to the coop to collect eggs. Yesterday, De and Vo had words over nest box rights. So I improvised a nest box using a 5 gallon bucket and a little hay. De proudly deposited her daily egg in the newfangled nest box, relegating Vo to the dusty old one.

New nest box

Ah, chicken politics.

Peep Races

Doc and I have been taking Buffy and the chicks out of the brooder and placing them in a tractor we moved inside the pen. This gives everybody a chance to stretch out.

Oreo demonstrates flexibility

I use this time to clean the brooder cage. The sand is great at drying out the poo. All I have to do is sift it with a wire sieve. Doc changes their feed and water.

De and the other watch these proceedings with great interest. Especially since they can score some chick crumbles every so often.

Passing through the yard, I maimed a big grasshopper. I raced to the tractor and handed it to Buffy.

She made sure the grasshopper was sufficiently dead and dropped it among the chicks. Oh the chickeny joy! One took off with the bug peeping furiously, followed by the other six. A chick managed to pick off a morsel and took off in another direction. She consumed it under Buffy's watchful gaze while the rest ran around.

The chick with the bug wore out the others and hid in a corner trying to figure out how to eat it. She eventually picked it apart. Buffy supervised and clucked her approval.

Doc and I rounded up Buffy and the chicks, placing them in the brooder cage. Well, mostly. One independent chick made a run for it. She ran out through the 2x4 farm fence into the yard, then perplexed, circled back and returned to the pen. She ran between my legs and bypassed Doc. The chick triumphantly raced up the chicken ladder and hopped into the coop through the pop door.

Nine days old! Can you imagine what they will be like next week?

Quick Chick

Fancy Brooder Cage

My broody hen hatched one of her eggs. I was so excited I raced over to Tractor Supply and got chick supplies as well as six more chicks. Last night I stuck the new pullets in the cooler that was going to be an incubator, except for one aggressive chick that I stuck out with broody Buffy and the newly hatched chick.

Today I went to check on the broody hen and her little brood. The smell was awful. Time to clean the coop!

Doctor Dolittle came out and we cleaned the coop, the nest box, and the broody nest cage. Coughing together in a big cloud of dust, Doc and I hatched a new plan. We decided to transform the broody nest cage into a brooder cage.

We cut up soda can boxes and taped them to the sides of the cage, along the bottom. Then we filled the cage with sand and took a few pictures.

Fancy Brooder Cage Work in Progress

We added another band of cardboard to keep chicks from falling out and rearranged the furniture. Well, we actually rearranged the furniture a few dozen times. Finally we added Buffy and the all chicks.

Buffy & Chicks in Brooder Cage

Oh the chickeny joy! Buffy's attitude changed from grumpy human-biter to gentle clucking mother hen.

Oh the chicken farmer relief!

Trapping Pests

My flock brings all the predators to the yard. One made off with a clutch of eggs. One left footprints in the dirt. Another had a staring contest with me late one night.

I have left my traps unbaited for too long. So today, after Doctor Dolittle prepared an amazing steak dinner, I took some trimmings out to the coop.

The birds saw me coming with a bowl. Oh the chickeny joy! They paced back and forth and clucked and hopped and collided like a handful of stooges. Their joy turned to fury as I kept walking past the coop. They squawked and grumbled and paced and hopped and ... well you know.

I stopped at the old TSC varmint trap stationed in the old chicken run. It has seen better days, but has done the job. It has captured squirrels, cats, a chicken, opossums, raccoons, and a fox. I baited it with delicious steak trimmings, carefully stuffed into an attached cat food tin.

Old trap from TSC, with DIY bait can

Did likewise with the Havahart trap.

I went back to the coop with the beefiest trimmings. Oh the chickeny joy! They paced back and forth and clucked and hopped and ... well you know.

Racing to the coop, I dropped the bowl inside and ran for cover. The ravenous birds put themselves up for the night as I stealthily closed the pop door. With the sound of violent feasting in my ears I slipped away.

Hopefully I will have a good catch tomorrow.



Update: Yikes! Saw an armadillo in the creek bed. Doc warned it to stay away from the trap.

Update: One less raccoon....

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.

DIY Tractor and Happy Chickens

It took longer than expected, but the flock has a new tractor. Not a John Deere, though I crave one badly, but rather a DIY masterpiece of PVC pipe, chicken wire, bird netting, shade cloth, and baling twine.

It took a lot of evenings to string together enough time to tie down everything, but the chicken wire and bird netting are secured in place. The tractor is fully enclosed and safe from casual predation. Obviously, chicken wire would not stop a determined squirrel, let alone a dog or a fox.

Doctor Dolittle helped finish the tie job. Then Doc helped move the tractor to a suitably overgrown patch of pasture. We propped up the corners to create a chicken gap and went to fetch the flock.

I opened the gate and Doc called "Chick! Chick! Chick!" to the birds. They looked up at Doc. They looked at the open gate. They looked at each other. Then, as if animated by one tiny chicken brain, the whole flock went berserk.

They squawked and rushed the gate. I bravely ran away.

Doc stood in the passage to the house yard, blocking the way with a hazing pole. I followed with the other pole and kept the flock moving toward the tractor. They eyed us with suspicion, but so long as there was greenery ahead of them they were willing to cooperate.

We hazed them into the tractor and then lowered it to the ground, trapping them inside with the water supply and the greenery. They looked at us. They looked at the greenery. They looked at each other. Then they sprang into action. Oh the chickeny joy!

They clucked and scratched. They ate shoots and leaves. They ate bugs and invisible bits of deliciousness.

Once the flock demolished most delectable parts of that patch of ground, Doc helped me scoot the tractor, and the enclosed chickens, to another section of green pasture. Oh the chickeny joy!

They repeated their ecstatic feasting on the most delectable parts. We watched them wind down and decided to put them back in the chicken pen.

We propped up one end again, hazed them out, and then Doctor Dolittle enticed them into the pen. I closed the gate, we breathed our relief, and then high-fived.

Tractor plus greenery equals happy chickens!

Chickens in new tractor

Springtime for Predators

Spring has finally sprung here in Texas. A late frost turned most the the budding greenery into dormant brownery. This week the second attempt at buds finally got going.

Now the pasture is a riot of growth. And my birds can have none of it.

True, Mr. Big has turned his fancy to thoughts of love, or at least the physical manifestation thereof. The current egg fertility rate is evidence of his diligence.

But the rest of the wildlife has been fecund as well.

Yesterday a copperhead snake fussed at me. A few blunt remarks persuaded the snake to relax and hang loose.

The worst has been the hawks. They are everywhere. You can hear them all the time. And you can see them flying low, searching. They are so numerous that even the crows are intimidated.

So the chickens remain incarcerated in their fully enclosed pen. Except for Mr. Big, they are bored and frustrated.

Luckily for them, the sudden growth has included weeds. I pulled some out and delivered them to the pen. Oh the chickeny joy! They dove in with single-minded ferocity. They scratched and pecked a little and clucked and pecked a little more.

Guess I have another farm chore.

Ten Minutes of Tractor Paradise

My new tractor is a masterpiece -- a master piece of scrap. It was built from leftover 3/4" PVC pipe, salvaged chicken wire, leftover bird netting, and baling twine.

I started this project thinking it would take a day or two. Now, a week later, I have managed to string together enough spare time sessions to get the tractor secure enough to test.

The weather was threatening a gully-washer and I still had not finished the tractor. So I made an executive decision to tie off a couple spots and just test it out.

I dragged the tractor to the pasture. (Why did I not build it there?????) I carefully propped it up on two supports. I opened the chicken pen and waited for the rush.

The chickens rushed all right. Straight to the back of the coop. They nervously peeked around the corner and gave me the stink eye.

No worries. I waded in with my hazing poles and cajoled, harassed, threatened, and pushed the chickens out of the pen and into the spot directly outside the gate. Surely they would cooperate now.

They scratched in the leaves, clucked happily, gobbled invisible bits of deliciousness, and then headed back into the pen.

Once more I cajoled, harassed, threatened, and pushed the chickens out of the pen. This time I kept pushing until they got the hint. Unfortunately, their enthusiasm took them into the house yard instead of the pasture.

*sigh*

I hazed them out of the yard and into the pasture. They stood next to the open side of the tractor and gave me the stink eye. Once more I cajoled, harassed, threatened, and pushed the chickens. Finally they went inside and I set the tractor on the ground.

Oh the chickeny joy!

They scratched and clucked and grazed and pecked and ate invisible bits of deliciousness. In ten minutes four chickens ate the best things from eighty square feet of pasture. Then they stopped for a drink.

As soon as they finished drinking I propped the tractor bottom up on the supports again and hazed the chickens out into the pasture.

Maybe my chickens forgot where the pen was located during their long incarceration. Maybe the delicious greenery sprouting all over the pasture was too tempting. Maybe they were clever and pretended to be stupid so they could graze more.

It was a challenge to get the chickens into the pen. First they wanted to graze their old pasture. Then they wanted to wander in their old thicket. Then they tried to get into the pen by standing next to the gate and freaking out. One hen tried to find the gate by running around the entire pen perimeter, except for the section by the gate. Three times. Even Mr. Big got frustrated with her.

Embarrassed by their foolish antics, Mr. Big directed the flock into the coop for the night and I gratefully closed the pop door behind them.

Now all I have to do is finish building the tractor.

Semi Free Range Treat

My chickens decided to free range themselves last year. I went along with it until a hawk killed two hens. Then I locked them up tight and refused to let them roam no matter how much they cussed at me.

Then, to make matters worse, one of my chickens started eating eggs. I identified the culprit and jailed her. Now my daily routine includes separating working girls from pen walkers.

Last night Vo, the egg eater, laid a shell-less egg on top of her cage before I had a chance to put her up. This morning I put her out with Mr. Big while De and Buffy remained in the coop to do their duty.

As usual, Mr. Big started to freak out as soon as he finished doing his duty with Vo. Then De and Buffy started squawking up a storm. The ruckus was so savage that Doctor Dolittle called me out of work to make sure no chickens were being consumed by Vermicious Knids.

As soon as I got there the chickens got quiet and tried to convince me that no wild parties were taking place. Nobody here but us chickens.

I collected eggs, evicted the two hens, and started giving the flock fresh water. The day was sunny and warm so I gave the dusty birds a good spray with the hose.

Oh the chickeny annoyance! They ran left. They ran right. They ran back and forth. They got wet the whole time. Once I stopped spraying them Mr. Big took them behind the coop to preen.

When the watering was done I checked on my birds. They gave me the stink eye, but otherwise looked fine. But I felt a little sorry for them and decided to give them a treat.

I opened the gate and called "Chick! Chick! Chick!" and two came running. Mr. Big and Vo waited to see if I was going to spray them before joining the others.

Varmint weapon and hazing poles in hand, I tempted the flock to a nearby stretch of grass and weeds and dirt and bugs and random yummy things. Oh the chickeny joy!

They ranged and scratched and pecked and clucked. They fairly glowed with satisfaction as I watched over them. After thirty minutes Doctor Dolittle helped me haze them back into the coop.

Oh the chickeny afterglow! And they were content for the rest of the day.

New chicken feed

The feed store was out of my usual chicken crumbles. They did not even have pellets.

They had Chicken Scratch. But that stuff is like bird candy with only 8% protein.

They also had Gamebird Feed. But that stuff is like an avian version of jet fuel with 22% protein.

I still had some Black Oil Sunflower Seed. It is pretty good at 18% protein.

So I decided to improvise. I bought the scratch and gamebird feed.

I am trying a 1:1:1 ratio with scratch, gamebird, and BOSS. In naive terms this ought to be (8+22+18) / 3 =  16% protein. Add grit, provide oyster shell, everybody happy. Right?

I put down a cupful of the feed mix. Oh the chickeny joy! They thought it was a treat for nearly thirty seconds. And then they were through with it.

As with the cabbage, they turned their backs and walked away.

Next day they ignored it. And the day after. Even the squirrels will not touch it.

Apparently my kitchen skills apply to chicken food too.


Update: Discovered a local gas station selling M-G 20 Layer Pellets. I have been driving past their sign for 15 years, wondering where the feed store was. *sigh* At least the birds have started eating up the improvised feed, pellets and all.

Update: Lack of calcium embedded in the feed has caused one case of shell-less eggs. One hen hates oyster shell and when she does not eat enough calcium-fortified pellets she has an oopsie.

Off to the Races!

My little flock of six chickens was initially confined to a bugless 1/3 acre chicken run. During that time I dutifully collected crickets and grasshoppers for them. They loved those little protein packed pests so much they would jump at my hand to snatch the treat. Oh the chickeny joy!

In the fall they decided to become free range chickens and hunt their own bugs. But now that winter is here, and hawks are overhead, I have been keeping them confined in an enclosed pen with only brief trips to the yard.

On their most recent trip the smart chicken, IQ, kicked up one of the few surviving grasshoppers. In a heartbeat she transformed from a semi-contented little bird to a ravenous coelurosaur.

The whole flock noticed and it was off to the races! IQ! De! Vo! Robin! Shadow! Buffy! Aaaaaand Mr. Big bringing up the rear. The bug turned and flew, sending the field into disarray. De and Shadow collided and dropped out of the race. Then it was IQ, Vo, and Robin. IQ in the lead. Robin caught up to Vo. The bug turned. Bad hop! Robin won by a beak!

Then their Kentucky Derby race turned into a Benny Hill chase as IQ and Vo ran after Robin. Vo managed to steal away half a bug and IQ stopped to eat a fallen leg. Oh the chickeny joy!

I tried to persuade them to join me for an impromptu award ceremony, but they would have none of it.