The Hen That Wasn't

This is Vader-Vulcan,

my supposed Brahma Hen.

A couple of weeks ago, Big E mentioned one of the hens making loud

weird noises.

I suggested perhaps she was doing the egg laying song

(known to be much louder than typical hen clucking).

Days after that, 

my mom tells me that one of the hens is making weird noises

that sound almost like a rooster.

I suggested it might be a rooster,

and my mom assured me that it wasn't.

Then I went down the barn.

For now, the rooster is staying.

He hasn't shown any mean tendencies, 

and so far my parents haven't complained about the crowing.

Apparently, he's not a morning rooster.

I'm hoping that he helps with protecting the flock.

Introductions

A little over a week ago, 

I went to the Maryland Poultry Swap & Farmer's Market

to find some new fox food chickens.

I didn't want to start over with chicks again this late in the year,

so I opted to try to find pullets or hens at the swap.

I wish I had taken the time to snap some photos from the swap,

but honestly, my focus was on finding some chickens.

I'm hoping to go back in September when I'm not so hyper-focused on one goal.

The first chickens I purchased were a pair of 

Plymouth Barred Rocks.

I enjoyed the ones I had before

and I was pleased to be able to grab these two.

(seriously, you have no idea how nuts it is to buy chickens at a swap)

They've been named Thelma and Louise because when they were introduced

to the rest of the flock, Zombie tried to assert her authority and these two gals promptly 

ganged up and whooped Zombie's butt.

Also, Louise still has a handcuff on her ankle

(she's banded).

Thelma

Louise

Along with the two rocks, I also grabbed an Orpington.

She's not quite egg laying age yet, but she will be soon.

I've named her Camilla after Gonzo the Muppet's great love.

Camilla and Gonzo

I wasn't sure that my Camilla had much of a personality 

and didn't think much of her at first

but watching her while I was working on the coop

changed my opinion.

She spent a great deal of time chasing moths, butterflies and bees.

It was quite comical.

When we purchased the rocks and the orpington,

we found out the lady we purchased them from was actually about 20 minutes from our home.

So we drove an hour and 15 minutes to buy chickens from someone 20 minutes away.

The next to join the flock was a black Brahma.

I always like the white Brahma I had named Squatch

(who was tragically killed by a fox a while back).

This guy has several names at the moment.

My son started with Vulcan, then started thinking maybe "Dark" Vader

and my cousin (who joined me at the poultry swap) and I are partial to Hecate.

(Pronunciation for Hecate- Greek: hec-KAH-tea Shakespeare: Heck-et)

Then I needed one more pullet/hen to finish my shopping.

I came across this blue laced Barnevelder

and since the price was right and it was an unusual breed

I grabbed one.

This is Pansy.

She isn't named for the flower, she's named for being, well, a pansy.

She shrieked so loud in the car

I was certain she was being pecked to death in the box.

So I unbuckled, climbed into the back and opened the box.

She was fine but promptly flew out of the box and around the back of the car

before I was able to grab her.

She screams bloody murder every time I enter the coop

and flaps around like a nut running from everything.

I've tried telling her the sky isn't falling, but it does nothing to settle her down.

Pansy and Hecate Vader Vulcan

So, you'd think my chicken shopping adventure would be done.

But, no.

I caught sight of some Silkie chickens and had to have one.

And with that chicken math 

(if you lose 1 extra large jersey giant that means you have room to add an extra bantam chicken)

I talked the hubby into getting

just one more.

This is Yeti.

Of course, as luck would have it, 

Yeti ended up with eye infections.

She's in the chicken hospital and looks to be making a recovery

(I hope since she's my new favorite).

So those are the new chicks on the block.

Plus Zombie, Royal Farms and Lenore

that survived the Great Chicken Massacre of Silver Run.

So Long, Friend

Okay, so friend might be pushing it.

She was just a chicken.

 But she was my favorite one or one of my favorites,

and yesterday she met an untimely end.

My brother found a large pile of white and black feathers in the bottom pasture.

So, off we went in search of chickens.

Two were hiding in the branches of a large spruce tree,

2 were missing and one was presumed dead.

We confirmed that Squatch was dead when we found her body in the neighbor's field

relatively untouched.

There was no sign of Bertha or Martha Stewart who are the only remaining hens from my original 6.

We looked all over-

me clucking like a chicken-

but found no sign not even feathers.

I left for my meeting, my son crying, me with a lump in my throat 

(don't judge I raised them from little chicks)

While I was at dinner I got a call.

My brother found the 2 missing hens and had returned them to their coop.

So R.I.P. Squatch

you're antics will be missed

(theory is that a dog got her as a fox is unlikely to leave a perfectly good dead chicken)

Wordless Wednesday

Squatch, Zombie and Martha Stewart at the watering hole

Wordless Wednesday

Someone is Eating the Sun!

As a kid, I enjoyed reading a book called Someone is Eating the Sun

It's about some farm animals that freak out because the sun is disappearing.

They think someone is eating it, only to learn at the end of the book that it's just a solar eclipse.

  It starts off with Hen who is picking at corn when she notices

 the sky getting darker and she takes off with a 

"flippity flap and a flutter".

Lately the chickens have been randomly taking off with 

a flippity flap and a flutter 

and I think about that book every time.  

Only my chickens are running for no apparent reason.