PRACTICAL PARSIMONY: chickens. danger

Showing posts with label chickens. danger. Show all posts

Thursday, November 4, 2010

Dog after my chickens now

Dogs are not allowed to run loose. We have leash laws. This big wolf-like dog is all over the place, unattended. Or, the owner is four blocks behind, not what the law specifies--dog must be under owner's control all the time.

I heard an excited "buck, buck, buck" and thought there was a squabble amongst the hens over a bug. No! Pretty soon, they were screaming and running. I ran out and grabbed a shovel leaning on the porch step railing. I met Thelma and Louise, running for their lives as I rounded the back of the house. The dog, fast behind, stopped and snarled when I screamed. Well, I screamed again after he snarled, threw up my arms wide and high, rushing this ferocious dog. I am terrified of dogs but I would have wrestled him for my chickens.

He ran one way, and I ran around the other side of the house to see if I could find Fancy. But, he was gone when I got to the front, and so were all the hens. Finally, I saw Louise, cowering by the back fence in some cover. I picked her up and put her in the dog-proof pen. I called, "Delilah," over and over--also called their names. (Delilah is their food call.) Then, Thelma appeared at the pen and I picked her up and put her in. Poor little Fancy, the smallest, most prolific egg layer, the one who follows me and "talks" to me was still missing.

I set out more slowly around the house, examining each bush and calling her name. Finally, I heard a tiny noise and kept calling softly. My heart was pounding once again, but with joy this time but also with fear. She sounded hurt, almost dead. Finally, I spotted her and coaxed her from the huge bush--good cover, smart girl! I carried her all the way from the front yard to the back with no complaints from her. She was frightened and so was I. We hugged.

Since I have all the chicken cooking in the house, I am afraid that the hour I am gone to the dinner that the raccoons will be tempted from the attic by the smell of food. I may take my hens with me for an hour.

Animal Control or city police are going to issue a citation for the owners of the dog when I find out who they are.

Am I sounding like the crazy chicken lady yet?

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The Cast

Fancy is my favorite hen. She is one of the three youngest hens I adopted. Because she is so gentle and friendly, she may be the one I rescued when she was being pecked to death after she could no longer stand. She got to live in the house in a box. Sometimes, I let her sit in my lap while she was convalescing. Now, she comes to sit in the swing with me, cuddling up to my body like a cat or dog. She died in February 2012.

Fancy follows me begging, complaining, needing me to do for her. She talks to me in various voices. She allows me to pick her up and carry her. When she became an adult, her head was a darker red and her body was light brown. Around her neck were tips of black feathers. It appeared she had a necklace of jet around her neck. When I showed this characteristic to a friend, he said, "Oh, you have fancy chickens and plain chickens."

Chessie has a broken toe. I broke it! She had a habit of jumping really high and almost sticking. A raccoon ate her in October 2009.

Thelma is the blonde. She is also the largest hen and the alpha hen. I suspect the gigantic eggs are from her. She often squats and presents herself to me. She is top hen, but I suspect she knows she had better be deferent to top feeder of the flock--me.

Louise is the auburn-feathered hen. She looks like the true Rhode Island Reds in pictures. She is almost as large as Thelma. Some days I suspect she is trying to be top chicken. When I got Pepper, I found out Louise is the Alpha hen.

Pepper came here from the same home as the first four. We were discussing putting red pepper on their food, wondering if it really would increase egg production. Pepper is the only name we agreed on. She is terrorized each day by Louise. Even after the worst was over, she was and is still filled with terror and very wary.

Linda is owned by four hens. They allow her to fetch for them. She loves them dearly, so she allows them to boss her around. Linda comes out in the rain to perform chores for them and make sure they have food and water. She begs scraps from all sorts of places to make sure they have fresh fruits and vegetables.

Parsimony is not a vegetable

Parsimony is extreme care in spending money. Stick around and learn about my random thoughts on accomplishing goals economically--dumpster diving aka safari, gleaning, do-it-yourself, sewing tips, recipes, and whatever is happening in my life.

Okay so maybe "parsimony" is not your thing. How about thrift, frugality or just plain saving money? I try not to go the tightwad route as that seems to imply others will suffer from my habits.

Some of my not-spending habits have very much been a part of my lifelong habits. Other habits are newly acquired and are an extension of my lifelong not-spending habits.

I am very imaginative when it comes to substituting or making instead of buying. I will tell you about making a heater for the chickens' water. Not one dime was spent since I had everything I needed right in my basement.

Practicality must rear its head alongside parsimony. For example, I will use the dryer in bad weather or because of allergies in the spring. But, I will not wash clothes in a tub as long as I have a washing machine or can find one.

You may hear more about my four Rhode Island Red hens than you care to hear. They lay delicious brown eggs.

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Thursday, November 4, 2010

Dog after my chickens now