It’s been a little over two weeks since we got the new chicks. They’ve zoomed right through their tiny-and-fluffy state into the beginning of their goofy-and-gawky stage. The goofy-and-gawky stage lasts long time, if the last batch is anything to go by.
Another chick died last week, another two on Tuesday, and another two yesterday and the last meat chicken last night. Apparently McMurr@y, the big hatchery, had an issue with a batch of “hot” vaccine at the end of February and beginning of March, so we’re hoping that’s what that was about, and not something we’re doing. The rest of them look fine and perky. I hope the dying is over, because a dying baby chick is a sad thing to see. Out of the 12 meat chickens (white orpingtons) we ordered, we were shorted by 4, one died in shipping, and the rest have died since. Of the chicks who’ve died since we’ve had them, only one was not a white orpington.
One of the Ivanas (ie, white-crested black polish). I love the way the fluff on top of her head is turning into individual feathers.
I think this one is going to grow up to look just like Frick.
Don King, there in the center (ie, golden polish), is also getting individual feathers on top of his head like the Ivanas.
The chicks are getting athletic enough that I’ve told Fred he needs to build a lid for the brooder sooner rather than later, because some of them are getting up on the board that the warming lamps are clipped to, and from there it’ll be a short jump to the side of the brooder, and then the floor. We’ve lost enough chicks now that it would really suck to lose any more by driving into the garage and accidentally running over an escapee.
Fred’s considering ordering more chicks from a different hatchery – possibly the one where we got last year’s batch. We’ll see.
Oh, and there’s a new chick movie. It’s not the best movie, but about 10 seconds in, the Ivanas (puffy white heads) sashay into view and glare angrily around the brooder (perhaps they’re looking for the maitre d’?), one shoots out a poo of displeasure, and they stomp off (or are scared off by me). Also, right at the end the golden polish (puffy brown head) comes into view, fixes the camera with a piercing look and then runs off, hopping over the feeder.
YouTube link
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Yesterday I couldn’t go anywhere (not that I wanted to, really), because I had to wait for the repairman to come and take a look at the refrigerator in the laundry room. (Note to those late to the game: we have a refrigerator in the laundry room; it was the one we had at the other house, and it was too big for the space allotted in the kitchen we have now, so we put it in the laundry room and it has come in very, very handy since the smaller refrigerator we have in the kitchen is way too small for all the crap we need to refrigerate.) After waiting all day, he showed up right at 3:00 (I’d been hoping he’d show up after 3:30, so Fred could deal with him, but no such luck.), took about 10 minutes to inspect, and then told me it was the “damper door”, which needed to be replaced and he’d have to order the part.
So it may be the end of this week or the beginning of next before the refrigerator’s fixed, but I’m not complaining, since it’s been needing to be fixed for at least three months, now.
I am complaining about the fact that I have to deal with the workman again, but eh. I suppose that’s what I get for not having a job, ain’t it?
The fosters continue to be skittish. I spent a couple of hours in the foster room yesterday and got to the point where HG (the black and white) would come around and skirt around the edges of the room. Smudge Bunny (the white) would sit in the closet (where the litter box is kept) and peer out at me, but if she thought I was headed in her direction, she ducked behind the door and hissed.
Last night, I sent Fred up to hang out with them for about ten minutes so he could have time alone with them – it tends to make new fosters a little bit nervous with both of us in there. When I walked in, HG was hanging out near the food, and Fred grinned and said “It’d probably piss you off to know that he’s been letting me pet him, wouldn’t it?”
Braggart.
Turns out that HG really likes the feather-on-a-stick toy, but not the feather end – the stick end. He likes to chase it around, bat at it, and chew on it. I played with him a little, and was able to pet him once or twice. Fred went out to check on the chicks (which he does every night before bed, along with 300 times during the day), so I kept playing with HG, and eventually Smudge Bunny couldn’t stand it anymore, and had to come out and chase the stick a little. Before I left the room, she sniffed my hand and licked me.
This morning when I went in to take a little soft food to them (we woo them with food, of course. Fastest way to a kitten’s heart is through its stomach), HG came right out and sniffed at the food. Smudge Bunny was hiding behind the closet door, so I went in and when she didn’t hiss at me, I took the chance and picked her up. After a brief pause, she started purring.
I put her down in front of the food and then sat down. She sniffed at the food, looked at me, and then came over and started rubbing against me, purring to beat the band. I stayed in there for about 15 minutes, and the entire time she rubbed and purred and climbed in my lap.
One kitten down, one to go!
“Who, me?”
(pic) You can see the gray smudge on top of her head. That angry, suspicious glare could burn holes in your soul.
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I put one of the cat beds I bought at Big Lots in Pennsylvania on the floor near the door in the computer room. The bed has a pad in it that’s attached at two points. Sugarbutt burrowed under the pad and napped there for an hour or so.
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Previously
2007: I think you can imagine how very fucking thrilled I was.
2006: It’s a little-known fact that the butt is the tenderest and most flavorful part of the cashew.
2005: No entry.
2004: No entry.
2003: I’d have to have a mind before I lost it, wouldn’t I?
2002: Luckily, I’ve perfected the mental art of putting my hands over my ears and humming very loudly should my mind ever try to wander in that direction.
2001: While we were on the way to the movie store this afternoon, she turned to me and said “For my birthday” which is in October, by the way, “Can I get another kind of pet?”
2000: Since then, Fred and I, predictably, have referred to smoking pot – when seen in movies – as “Smoking the wheat.”
Thanks for the chick video! I had flashbacks to my grandparent’s house when I was a kid, they would get chickens every year.
I had a white kitty at one time too with a gray smudge on her head, eventually went away. She had green eyes, I see yours has blue. I have heard that sometimes when they have white fur and blue eyes they tend to be deaf. Have you noticed this with your foster…given she’ll let you near her?
Hi there Robin. I have 3 questions for you:
Are you watching the Biggest Loser, and if you are, could Mark touch and fondle his beard a little bit MORE because I am not nearly creeped out by it enough. I just want to say… Mark, you and your beard go get a room!
Are you still watching Survivor? Who are you pulling for? Wasn’t it crazy to watch the fans attack each otehr from within? What a bloodbath.
And third, morbid curiosity hear, what do you do with those dead baby chicks… tell me it doesn’t have anything to do with the piggies, right?
Now that you are a professional chick wrangler, you must be in the know about all things chick-ery. Is it typical to lose a certain number of new chicks? Do experienced chicken ranchers, such as yourself, generally order more than they hope to raise, in anticipation of losing some?
On the deaf white kitty front – the genetic problem can occur with all white males not just blue-eyed kitties. My Casper the Friendly Cat was deaf as a door knob. He was the first kitty our family had (sense I was born) and I loved him. He loved to go on trips – jumped right in the car and curled up on the floor in the back seat. Boy I miss that kitty. Maybe my next cat will have to be white (like I control the color of my cats- ha!).
Poor chicks. I think you do need to get some more so you have some meat chickens. Otherwise, you and Fred will still feel guilty when you eat store bought chicken knowing it had a bad life. I’m sure you and Fred have been saving a proper prayer before each burial, if not – I think it’s time for a Memorial Service! Ha ha!
Ok, what is the Crooked Acres stand on teeth cleaning(s) for the kids of the feline persuasion. My vet has been wanting to do my siamese for a while now, but I’m scared as he’s around 12-14 years old. There is so much conflicting advice out there! Help!
I have a *huge* thing for orange kitties. Can the orange kittens come to live with me, please? We’re down to 4 old cats and one blind dog Chez Cathovel and must find fresh blood … uh … new babies to cuddle.
If Smudge has smudges in her white fur, then she is probably not deaf. Make some noise while she’s sleeping and see how she reacts.
My cats also prefer the stick end of the feather on a stick toy. Go figure.
Those chicks scattering every time you talk to them cracks.me.up. LOL.
I love Smudge! I think it is that white fur. I miss Tubby!! 🙁
I had a white kitty with a smudge on her head like that, who had one blue and one green eye. Her companion was a big black cat named Eddie, and they did a Romeo and Juliet type death scene but with cars instead of poison… Snowy first, then Eddie. I miss my little one 🙁
I think a manipulation of “shoots out a poo of displeasure” would be a great tagline in one of your logo banners, one of these months.
🙂
M
So have you been following The Real Housewives of New York? Myself, I can’t stand Ramona! I also can’t stand how that one Alex and Simon couple are total leeches trying to suck their way up the social ladder. But I can’t help but really like Jill.
Poo of Displeasure, live at the Tabernacle. Special guest – Puffy Brown Head….
I pets dem with tha fangers.
>>Turns out that HG really likes the feather-on-a-stick toy, but not the feather end – the stick end. He likes to chase it around, bat at it, and chew on it.
Never mind. I had a really cute paragraph following the quote, but somehow it doesn’t seem to have posted. Sometimes I hate computers.
Um. Why is everyone not talking about how cute Sugarbutt is in that cat bed???
Here’s my question, Robyn-poo….
Do you find you’re having any qualms, or feelings of sadness about slaughtering the animals? I ask because – well, I grew up on a farm, so I know how these things go – will it make it more difficult since you’ve bonded with them, named them, discovered personalities, and spent time with them? I think I wonder mostly because you’re new to farming, not long time old folks!
Have you seen this??!!
http://www.slide.com/r/hD6DvyAOxD9ClUhvUpVcUMABW9QzpGnQ
!!! “through it’s stomach” ITS, Robyn. ITS. Not IT’S.
Whew, sorry. =P
I was also going to comment on the white cats, with blue eyes, being deaf thing.I have always heard that too . I have had a few white cats with blue eyes , but they all had long hair. I think it’s the short haired ones that
are sometimes deaf.
Years ago when I first bought baby chicks ,the “chick people” told me that you had to clean their butts while they were little or they could “get clogged up and die”
well, my husband actually did spend plenty of time ,making sure all the little chickens had clean ,clog free butts.
Do they not say that any more?
Have your chicks that died, had clog free butts?
Good Lord, the things we do:)
Miss life on the farm,now living it,vicariously though you.
Long time no see, MsPoo!
I am not dead. I still have the mix CD you sent me a hundred years ago and now I have two cats (which my husband is currently terrorizing with a laser light).
I WILL get back to this bloggy, journal-y very very soon.
JL from Time Waits fro No One.
Has anyone used a product called Feliway? It is a Feline Behaviour Modification Pheromone Spray & Diffuser. My 14 year old cat was pooping outside the litter box because I think he was constipated. He is no longer constipated but has gotten into the habit of pooping wherever. I took him to the vet, he is fine, so she thinks it is behavioural, that is upset about something. This Feliway stuff apparently is phermones that help to alleiviate anxiety. Just wondering if anyone had ever used it and how well did it work or not work?
I want “shooting out a poo of displeasure” to be my superpower.
I’m sorry about your chicks. Feeling responsible for death on the farm is just awful. I have two words for you – Ideal Poultry. We’ve always gotten strong birds and have only lost 2 chicks in many years and one of those was obviously killed in shipping. We have 25 meat birds on the way along with 10 heritage turkeys because sanity was never my strong suit.