Chick Drama Continued

I am very sorry. I left you in suspense all weekend, and a long weekend, at that. I hope you did not lose any sleep, wondering if that little chick ever made it out of its shell.

Well, I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave that chick alone in its struggle to break out. I imagined it could feel the shell pressed so close around getting colder by the minute as its chirps went unanswered, despair rising in its little heart. I had to do something. And I remembered what they did in the days before incubators; so I grabbed a box and a work lamp out of the shop, and transferred the nest to the box.

Several hours later, assisted by encouraging chirps and words from the family, we watched it kick free from the shell.

But that is hardly the conclusion to our story.

 

While we were waiting, I candled one of the other eggs that Isadora had left in the nest. There was no sign of life in that egg, so I wasn't sure if any of the other eggs (that had thicker, colored shells and were difficult to candle) had any chicks inside. But at one point, as Chris and I were watching the hatch-out, I saw one of the two green eggs jiggle. "Did you see that?" I asked. He hadn't.

After the chick hatched, Joe was anxious to crack open the other eggs. The thought of cracking some open to find mostly developed chicks inside made my stomach turn. I handed him the egg I knew had nothing in it, and another I felt pretty confident was a dud, and told him to break them open somewhere I couldn't see. He came back, telling me there was nothing to report. I handed him two more eggs, and off he went. Nothing.

Now we were down to the two green eggs, one of which I felt had a chick inside. But I couldn't remember which one. Chris was ready to let Joe bust them open. "Are you sure I didn't bump the box and make it move?" he asked. Quite sure. Finally, I agreed to let Chris carefully break a hole in the eggs to see if anything was inside. He took a flat head screwdriver to the first one. A few taps, and some liquidy egg-white flowed out. Nothing there. He grabbed the second egg. I held my breath. He carefully poked a hole and, "There IS a chick in there!" No kidding. I knew I saw it move.

By this time, it was getting late. We moved the box and heat lamp into the spare room in the trailer, and left the chick with the unhatched egg, hoping we'd have two hatched out by morning. As Chris had knocked quite a hole in the egg, I was worried that it would dry out before the chick could hatch out, and the chick would get stuck inside. But I had also heard that if you help a chick out of its shell, its chances of survival are greatly reduced. Chris decided that if it wasn't hatched by morning, he would break it out before he left for work and see what happened.

Next morning, I awoke to find Chris getting ready for work. He reported that it hadn't hatched out, so he had broken open the shell. It was still alive. Great, I thought. He leaves me to deal with a dying chick. I transferred the chick to plastic bin inside the box so that the other chick (who was doing well) wouldn't trample or peck it to death before it could get on its feet.

By the end of the day, our little preemie was up and appeared to be fine.

But now, after raising two batches of chicks already this year, we had two more chicks on our hands. Neither Chris nor I was anxious to have to take care of a couple of chicks for another month. We especially weren't anxious to have to pay the extra electricity costs that a heat lamp generates. What were we going to do? Our only hope was that Isadora would take these two under her wing along with her other chicks.

The next day, Chris carried the two chicks out into the yard and set them down near Isadora. She didn't pay them any attention, and while her two chicks were sticking to her like glue, the new chicks looked helplessly lost. After a few minutes, Chris decided he'd better gather them back up and return them to the box and safety. As soon as he grabbed one, it started chirping. Isadora heard the chick in distress, flared up like a tom turkey, and charged at Chris. Isadora is not a big hen, but let me tell you, she's pretty intimidating. In order to get the other chick, Chris had to distract Isadora by 'threatening' her chicks while Finley grabbed the second late-hatcher.

We finally decided our best bet was to put Isadora and all the chicks into the little chicken tractor where the chicks would be safe and Isadora would be corralled. Hopefully, under these conditions, she would accept the chicks, and the chicks would have a good chance of learning that Isadora was their new 'heat lamp.' Catching Isadora proved to be a challenge, but once we got her cornered Chris was brave enough to grab her. Although her two chicks had taken cover under the stable, it didn't take them long to find their way back to where Isadora was locked up in the pen. Now all four chicks were in the pen with Is.

Thankfully, it was a warm day out, and the sun was enough to keep the chicks warm. When I checked on them later in the afternoon, Isadora was resting in the shade of a box I provided for them to hide in, her two chicks nestled against her. The other two were huddled together outside.

That worried me a little. If they weren't in with Isadora when night fell... But when I went to check on them after dark, all four chicks were hidden away somewhere in the warmth of Isadora's feathers.

The next morning found a happy family scratching and pecking in the grass.

More Drama on The Farm

I guess I didn't need to worry about Isadora getting her chicks out of the nesting box, because we just noticed she was out in the chicken run and her chicks were with her. I went to check on the rest of her nest, and there were about six eggs left. Joe wanted to crack them open, but I really didn't want to see a bunch of mostly developed chicks splatted on a rock. Looking at them closely, Finley noticed that one of them had a pip hole in it. I picked it up, and it wasn't very warm, so thought maybe the chick was dead. I set it back down, and a few seconds later heard a tiny peep. Great.

This is where it would be helpful to have a heart of stone. If we had an incubator, my bleeding heart would insist on firing the incubator up and placing the egg in it to give the chick a fighting chance. So I am tapping into the harder parts of my heart, and will just wait to see if the chick hatches. Then I can see if Isadora will take care of it. If not, I'll pull out a light bulb and a box to keep it warm, I guess.

In the mean time, here is a video of Isadora with her chicks. Toward the end, she accidentally kicks one of her chicks in her search for food. Pretty funny.

And then there were two.

Another chick hatched out yesterday afternoon.

Since Isadora hatched out these chicks in a nesting box nearly two feet off the ground, I've been a little worried about things... The chicks don't need food or water for a day or two, but being a mother hen myself, I wanted to make sure they were available, so I took a little bowl of water out to tuck in a corner of the box this morning. I didn't realize chickens could growl, but Isadora sure did as I edged closer to put the bowl and some scratch in her nesting box. She's a good mama.

I'm a Grandma!

Well, not really. But Isadora hatched one chick out today. Chris managed to get a photo of mother and baby.

Making the Morning Rounds

Every morning after I've managed to get the kids to school, I make the morning rounds to feed the animals and check on things around the farm. It's one of my favorite parts of the day.

 

Usually, my first stop after I feed Jane the rabbit is to check on the three Polish chicks we have in the little coop. I love these little birds. Polish chickens first won my heart when I visited the Seed Savers farm in Decorah, Iowa four years ago. We've had buff-laced and white, but these tan and blacks are probably my favorite.

 Next, I wander over to the chicken coop where the big flock of chickens and ducks assault me. It is imperative that I throw out some scratch for them so that I am not harassed when I try to fill the meat-birds and other chickens' feeders.

That done, I take a peek on top of the chicken coop. Several weeks ago, after replenishing the top with some soil, I threw down some moss rose seed in hopes that I could get some sort of plants established up there. I neglected my green roof last year when we had the dry spell, and most of the sedum I had planted failed to survive the abuse. Happily, the moss rose seeds are taking off, as well as some weed seed that was in the dirt. Below is a (lousy) photo of a section I had just weeded.

Inside the coop, Isadora is sticking to her nest. We might have some baby chicks by the end of the week, although I am not sure how many of her original eggs were fertilized. I candled the one egg I knew was hers, but it was not viable, so I had to throw it out. Also, a few other eggs were laid in the nest by other chickens later when she was taking a break, so I don't know what will happen if some hatch out and others need more time...

 After all the animals are taken care of today, I took a peek inside the house. We have gotten a little over half the wiring pulled on the main level. The electrical feels like a big deal. As soon as it's all pulled in, we can get the rough-in inspection, and from there, it feels like we will be over the hill with the end in sight!

 Out the front of the house and over to the plot that will some day be an amazing perennial garden. My plan is to have dwarf fruit trees in each of the gardens four corners. So far, I only have one peach tree that Mom and I found on clearance at Tractor Supply last fall. We were shocked to see that it already is producing.

Back to the house for a cup of coffee, and then the day really begins.

Let the growing season begin.

Procrastination is not always a bad thing. Last year, I was overly anxious, planted my tomatoes a week before our frost date of April 15th, and lost them. This year, frequent cold snaps and rain has peppered our spring; April 15th flew by with hardly a thought of gardening. The few days we had a of fine weather I spent waiting for the soil to dry out, only to have it rain again. When my brother offered some tomato plants last weekend, I was glad I hadn't been too enthusiastic. He grows some fine tomatoes. And it was a good thing I didn't plant them for a week. We had another frost the night before last.

The forecast has promised a warm up, however, so yesterday I planted tomatoes.

Convenience, Quality, Life.

I am embarrassed to admit it. Sometimes I opt for convenience over quality. I think know when we start to value convenience over quality we often get ourselves in trouble. Frequent indulgence in fast-food leads to health issues. Synthetic fertilizers in your garden or on a corn field might produce a nice, temporary result, but in the long run, the food doesn't contain the same nutrients and the soil suffers. You get the picture.

But the consequences of convenience are not always that harmful. And so today, I opted for the convenience of my new iPhone... Wait, what was that? Is this the same person that several years ago thought she would never text? Is this the same person that just last month swore to herself that she would never own a smart phone? Yes. It's a long story, and the siren, Convenience, has sung her song and lured me into her clutches once again.

So  after taking the photos, instead of digging out the cord to connect the camera to my computer, waiting the minute or two for the camera and computer to acknowledge each other and finally download the photos, I let the iPhone do all that for me.

What's really nice is when the quality of convenience rises, and I can take a decent picture like the one of the calves here.

 Mopey and Meat-Head are still alive, though they still have a cough. I am not sure they will ever be rid of it. One more round of antibiotics, then we will see if they can make it on their own after that. We have stopped the morning bottle feed as they seem to be eating grass and their ration of grain well. They still look for me in the mornings, which made it easy to get this shot. Sometimes, though, they are too busy nosing in the grass to notice me, so I started calling them for their bottle in a falsetto, "Soo(Sue), sooooooooo! Shuck, shuck, shuck...." (I think I learned this from my brother, who used to lend a hand on a cattle ranch. If I remember correctly, this was the way they would call the cows in, offering some grain as a treat.) Anyway, the calves have started to make the connection between the call and the bottle and come running.

The three Polish chicks we got from Co-op were moved out to the little chicken coop recently. They are paranoid, flighty little things.

 Isadora has taken to sitting on some eggs. I didn't have the heart to kick her off the nest, so here she is, a week into it. The second day, she got off for a snack and got back on the wrong nest. I found her a few hours later, and put her back on the right one, so I'm hoping the eggs are still okay. I plan to candle one soon to make sure. I've also been careful to collect the other eggs more often so that she won't make the same mistake again.

 Our other layer chicks are growing up... Still not full size, but it's about time they start venturing out for some sun and fresher air. Hopefully, they will not draw the attention of any hawks.

 And the meat chickens have been relocated to the movable pen. Just a couple more weeks, and they will be relocated to the freezer.