Fires, crashes, and other natural disasters

Well, it's been awhile since I last posted. Rather than try to catch up for the period of the last year...and a half, let me just say I've been busy. So have the birds.

We still have the Jersey Giants. Triple Wide (his name denotes his size and I'm not talking turkey--or maybe I am) is still captain of the Giants team. He has had many roosters come and go under his watch. Currently we have two younger Jersey Giant roosters and a beautiful white mixed rooster I named "Coyote dinner". He has managed to avoid being Coyote dinner so far so I'll just have to rename him CD. The egg production was up around 30 a day for a while until dogs, racoons, and/or a coyote decimated the flock to a manageable few producing about 17 eggs a day. Enough to supply the locals, but not much else. My two Rhode Island Reds are still running around, their names are Penny and Half-Cent. Something about Henny Penny. They are very friendly having been escorted out of the garage by Gary 6 times in one day while trying to sneak in to lay eggs in the wonderful dark cabinetry.

One of the bigger concerns about living in the Sierra toe hills is the fire threat. The chickens have done an amazing job of clearing out the property of debris and brush...at least where we allow them. Due to dog roaming concerns both ours and others, we installed a new electric fence and were very happy with the results as the chickens stayed safely inside with our dogs, and the dogs, coyotes, skunks, racoons, and other creatures stayed outside. Especially when they found out the fence was electrified.

It was somewhat of a surprise for my husband to come home after a windy day and discover the fence glowing. He hurdled the main fence to get to the back yard, wrenching his knee, to rush and put out a fire caused by debris that had blown into the fence. The damage from the fire could have been extensive if the wind had kept up and the birds hadn't gotten the brush down to manageable levels. It also helped that it had rained and the ground was still too damp to burn.

To add insult to injury he was in a car accident about 3 weeks later that required stitches, further injury to the knee, and an injury to his shoulder. My car was totaled.

His business, which was just starting to take off with many requests pending his attentions, has had to be put on hold and he is undergoing a painfully slow process of healing that is frustrating in its length.

As we wait for Spring--did we ever have winter? Where was summer from last year? And wonder what further craziness the climate will offer, I tentatively make plans to hatch a new batch of birds hoping for a future replacement for Triple Wide. His girth makes him too valuable to eat and only worthwhile to breed. Way to go TW!

A Rooster Named Elvis

When I tell people I have a rooster named Elvis it usually causes them to hide a smile behind a hand, smirk, frown, or just ask the simple question, "why?" The obvious answer would be “because he’s black”, but the actual story is that when I brought him home and introduced him to my hens they all started doing a provocative chicken dance. They literally got all shook up.

We got Elvis because I wanted “bigger” chickens. Up until this point I had “beginner chickens” known as Banties. Banties are a self-sufficient breed of chicken, they’ll procreate with a rock. They’re fast and flighty which makes them hard for the predators to get. But they are not prolific egg layers; their eggs are categorized as “small” because they are a small bird. I didn’t have a need for bigger birds until a long time livestock owner came to the house and upon seeing my flock said, “Wow, your chickens are little!” My pride was wounded. She said it almost laughing. My birds are little? You mean there are bigger chickens out there? How big can they get? What’s the biggest breed out there? Can I have one? Do I want one? In the back of my mind I determined to get bigger birds.

It started with Buff Orpingtons. Orpingtons are a wonderful, sweet tempered, friendly, docile chicken. Unlike Banties they are bigger. Also unlike Banties they are prolific egg layers. And they are not flighty or fast. I first realized this might be a problem when I had them free ranging on the property early in the morning and noticed a German Shepherd chasing them. “Hey!” I yelled at the dog. The birds had wandered a good one hundred yards away from the dog run and house. The Orpingtons were doing a great strategy of dodge and serpentine over the open yard scattering in different directions. “Hey!” I yelled at the dog again. He finally halted and looked towards me. Something wasn’t right with his coloring—and the way he carried his tail--I realized that he wasn’t a dog. He quickly assessed me as too far away (which I was thank goodness) to be a threat and continued to try to chase the birds. In the pause of the second ‘hey’ the birds had made a mad rush for the yard and towards me half flying half running over the fence. I have two dogs. They were in the yard with me. And they did not have the scent of the Coyote and so they didn’t act protective of me towards the coyote. Not that I would want them to necessarily, but it was reassuring to have them near even if they were just looking at me after dropping a ball as if to ask “so, are you going to throw the ball or just stand there?” The coyote sauntered off realizing the prey was lost to him that morning. I realized Orpingtons don’t fly and my dogs needed to be trained better to react when I got agitated about coyotes in the yard...or maybe they're just fine because coyotes can do damage to dogs.

Everybody says “you don’t need a rooster to have a bird lay eggs”, which is true. Birds will ovulate with or without a rooster. However, after hearing the warning clucks of my Banty rooster and watching the hens dodge for cover when a big bird flew overhead, I knew that roosters did have a purpose. They protect the flock.

My Orpingtons were supposed to be Pullets (baby female chicks) but low and behold one of them turned out to be a rooster. I was comforted with the knowledge that the Banties had their rooster, and the Orpingtons had theirs. Life was good…until we got a new puppy.

We lost our Orpington rooster, then a hen as we tried to determine whether the puppy was responsible. Resorting to the tried and true farm trick of tying the carcass around the neck of the dog she was broken of any chicken killing after a week of meat bees swarming her on hot days. I needed another big rooster to protect my Orpingtons. And so we discovered the local poultry auction.

I saw an ad in the local paper about a poultry auction held at the beginning of every month and we went to check out the livestock. Among the birds I spotted a large black rooster. I asked the health department inspector who routinely checks all the birds what kind of chicken he was. She told me “a Black Giant”. Black Giants are also known as Jersey Giants. They are one of the largest breeds of domestic chickens, I had read somewhere. Larger breeds are descended from the Jungle fowl of Indonesia, but that’s another story. An adolescent, this rooster was just starting to crow and although he wasn’t full-grown yet, he was big and had already had his spurs clipped once. My eyes greedily took in his massive size and I thought, “Nobody will call my birds little again!” I shelled out $7 for him and took him home and a few other birds to my girls.

When we brought the big black rooster home we had to put him in the chicken run along with a Bar Rock and some Buffs. When my Orpingtons heard him clucking they came running and started shimmying and twitching their tail feathers. These girls liked him, they really liked him. That’s when we decided to name him Elvis. Sleek black feathers, a crooning cluck that brought the girls running, and a cute rooster dance that just had them swooning to the ground in hen delight. Elvis would eventually be king of my roost.