Do a dust bath, make a little love, get down tonight

My chickens are slowly adapting to the realities of confinement.

While none have tried to shank me, the rooster has given me the stink eye on more than one occasion. He has crowed at me while standing his ground. And he has tried to score with the ladies right in front of me.

These acts of aggression cannot stand.

When he behaves this way I haze him. That is to say, I point at him and call his name, or I take a step in his direction with an arm raised, or I step between him and the hens. That last one seems to have really bothered him.

Now when I open the pop door he leads them around behind the coop where I cannot see them. Today I was quick with the egg gathering so I stealthily peeked around the corner.

Oh the chickeny joy! It was a scene out of Imperial Rome! The ladies were lolling about with Sybaritic pleasure, languidly scooping dirt onto themselves at intervals. Mr. Big was having his way with one of the hens.

This went on for some time, so I slipped away before they noticed.

Now I feel dirty.


Update: I have tried my hand at creating dust bath containers for the chickens. They hated the litter box. They hated the raked area. They hated the sand-filled tire. They hated the round livestock water dish. The only thing that seems to please them are random depressions of their own construction, in which they place foot magnets to attract my feet. I suspect they are plotting against me.

Sneaky Broody Hen

My broody hen was on the nest this morning, warming the eggs put there by all my other hens. I took advantage of the full production by putting her in the run and closing the coop.

She acted like this was her fondest wish. She ate the black oil sunflower seeds and the scrambled eggs from my breakfast error. She lolled in the dust and generally gave every impression of sybaritic pleasure.

At first she was careful to stay with the flock. But as the day wore on, she started trying to slip into the coop unnoticed. When she heard me nearby in the yard she would casually vacate the top of the chicken ladder by the closed coop door and casually walk as fast as she could back to the chicken run.

Knowing the outcome in advance, I opened the coop and went to work on another part of my yard for about 5 minutes. When I returned she made no pretense of staying with the flock. Instead she boldly remained on the nest.

I placed her back in the cooler cage. She seemed unsurprised and maybe a little smug that her subterfuge had worked once. Once.

I am starting to consider some additions to my coop. I may build a shelf to hold the cooler cage by the roost. I am also thinking about building another nest box above or below the current nest box. I need to think about this some more as my carpentry skills are similar to my breakfast skills....