To begin, as you presumably know, I live in the state of New Hampshire, which has received a very sturdy snow fall due to our northern location.  We have about two feet right now and have been pounded pretty well this winter.  Most winters we get at least two feet, which can be a lot for some animals.  Let’s begin with the joys associated with the snow.

My family used to own a black Labrador Retriever mix (we have no clue what else).  Now, watching dogs in the snow is hilarious, because some love it and some hate it.  He loved it, as far as I could tell.  I remember him doing the awkward bounding type run through deeper snow because he was on the shorter side.  Ironically, he hated water, to the point where small puddles got a several foot berth.

Also, being able to look out the windows and see animal tracks is always mildly amusing.  I have no clue what I’m looking at most of the time, but it is still cool for about five minutes.  You can see what peruses your yard, even what is considering preying on your chickens.

On the other hand, the weather can cause a few problems…

Chickens, it turns out, hate falling snow.  If snow begins to fall on them, they freak out and hide under things and in the coop.  This is problematic because sudden storms cause them to hide under the coop, and the stubborn ones won’t come out to get into the coop at night, so you have to scare them out.  Also, you need to shovel them out the next day, which is mildly annoying.  But once they get out, they begin to eat whats left in the pen.  They can be weird little birds.

Finally, Gonzo (my gecko) can be tricky in the winter.  My room, due to its location, is poorly insulated.  This causes the room to drop into cold temperatures that aren’t gecko friendly.  So, as I previously mentioned, I have placed a thermometer in his terrarium to maintain the temperature.

While winter snows may be an absolute nuisance for many of the humans on this planets, for animals it can either be a fun experience or an annoying one.

With all of the human-chicken harmony, we were a little surprised recently when one of our girls changed from being a protective mother to being aggressive.  As noted last August, one of our Black Wyandottes has had a tendency to defend her eggs.  However, last year all you had to do was give her a gentle push, and she’d leave the coop.  This year, it is a whole different situation.

This chicken is almost always in the coop, sitting in one of the nesting boxes.  Only the dominant Silver Laced Wyandottes can get her to move out of the box; all of the other girls have to share the nesting box with her.  After my first encounter with this newly angry chicken, I understand why the other were willing to share.

When I opened the coop door, there was Ms. Black Wyandotte nesting in a box.  As I leaned my head in, she began to squawk.  After two years of having chickens, I am used to their noisiness, however, this was an all new squawk.  Not only did she issue a warning to me with her squawk, but she also fluffed up her feathers, ready to fight.

Being many times her size and used to the occasional freshness of my darling teens, I decided I was not letting a little chicken determine that I could not gather eggs.  So, I reached a hand toward her.  Unlike my teens, this chicken puts physicality behind her squawk, and thus, she lunged at my hand with an open beak.  Yikes!

With temperatures near 90, I didn’t want to leave eggs in the coop for long, so it was time for a new plan.  Using the egg collecting bowl as a shield with one hand, I covered her beak and quickly grabbed the eggs under her with the other hand.  She wasn’t happy about this situtation, but she also wasn’t harmed in the process, so egg gathering was a success.

Almost any time of day, if someone goes to collect eggs, she still is sitting in the box.  Whether she  has become increasingly maternal or an angry older chicken, we aren’t sure, but we do know that each day we’ll need to do battle to gather eggs.

Although we like having chickens, our decision to get a flock of eighteen was for eggs.  We didn’t want eighteen new pets, we wanted chickens that would provide us with eggs.  So, in late November when our girls’ egg production dropped from six or seven eggs per day to one or two eggs per days, we thought their laying days might be over.

We knew that lack of sunlight would lessen their egg production, as it did last year, but this year, their production of eggs simply ceased about mid-December.  We began to contemplate our options.

1.  Butcher the chickens and make soup for us.

2.  Continue to feed the chickens, making them pets instead of “farm” animals.

3.  Donate them to a friend who would butcher them and use them in her restaurant.

We had become comfortable with choice #3.  In fact, I was going to call her at the end of this week to arrange a date for the chickens to be delivered.  However, when I went to their coop on Monday night, I discovered three eggs, and then on Tuesday, I discovered four eggs.  Did they know about our plan?

Obviously, the amount of sunlight has improved egg production, and for this we are very glad.  We had been disappointed that they laid eggs for only slightly more than a year, as we had hoped to get closer to two years of laying from them.  We also weren’t enjoying buying eggs at the store.  Most of all, we weren’t excited about having to tell the kids about the chickens’ demise.

So, for now, our girls are back to doing what they do best.  Laying eggs.  And trying to avoid all of the snow.

Entering the chicken pen, I found at least six inches of snow covering the ground.  As I opened the coop door, I was greeted in the typical manner with the girls crowding the entry, ready to jump out.  However, seeing the white coating on the ground, they stopped short.

Thankfully the chickens reacted quickly, and no one fell out of the coop and into the snow.  That would have produced an angry chicken.  Seeing that their food was filled, and they had plenty of water (and snow) for drinking, I returned to the house.

About a half hour later, I decided to see how many chickens had braved the snow.  The answer? Zero.  I am sure they were quite thirsty, as their water is on a platform outside of the coop, and most mornings they fight over a drinking spot.  However, today, the desire to stay out of the snow outweighed their desire to quench their thirst.

By midday some of our girls finally had braved the snow, although they tended to hide under the coop and peck at the snow around the edges.  Taking pity on the girls, I shoveled a path in their pen while I was outside shoveling our walkways.  Providing a glimpse of bare ground, the remaining water deprived chickens left their coop for a drink.

As we learned last year, snow is not their thing.

In the cities, the skunks are definitely worse.  My dad lives in one of the cities of New Hampshire, and at his house, the skunks are more obvious and populous than anywhere else I’ve been.  They just wander into yards, eating grubs and trash, while occasionally spraying things.

Our biggest problem is the fact that they love to live under our shed.  The skunks would build a nest under it, so in order to block or trap them, we used chicken wire to block off all but one way out, and placed a Havahart Skunk Trap there.  The skunk woke that night and stumbled into the trap, so the next day we just carried him off to a new home.  The next year, a mother moved in but was hit by a car two days later.  So, we assumed all was fine, but the yard still smelled every night.  We looked around and learned she had babies under our shed.  So, using the same technique we trapped all four babies, one at a time.

In the smaller town in which my mom lives, we have similar problems.  Often, I can look outside at night and see a skunk sitting in the middle of our yard.  They tend to burrow for grubs or, occasionally, nose around our chicken coop.  One afternoon a skunk ambled into our yard. This was very odd, because skunks are nocturnal, so we thought it was rabid, and we couldn’t see it well enough to tell.  The skunk went over and managed to slip into the coop.  The chickens began to freak out, thinking, ‘Who are you and what  do you want?!’  Fearing it would hurt them, my step-dad grabbed a .22 caliber small game hunting rifle and leveled it at the skunk but couldn’t fire because the girls were jumping in the line of fire.  Fortunately, the skunk left.

Skunks will harass you, but by taking some measures, you can fend them off.

First of all, there is now a very defensive mother in the coop.  She is one of the Black Wyandottes, and if you go near her when she is on her egg, she squawks loudly, flaps her wings, and attacks you.  Also, she is very nervous when around humans.  To get some pictures for this article, one of my sisters and my brother had to coax her out while I photographed.  Well, she is being a good mom.

The chickens are loving the warm weather, but this summer has, so far, been the rainiest ever.  This is causing excessive mud in the coop.  The mud, though, is actually a mud and chicken feces mix (Eww!).  The chickens don’t mind it, and they will even eat food out of it.  The mud is covered in chicken tracks that creates an interesting pattern.

Recently, I did some research on chickens and learned a lot. The eye of a chicken can focus on large items no more than 160 feet away. That’s why most chickens do not like to go more than that distance away from their coop.  Also, chickens are able to express over 30 different sounds and have an excellent sense of hearing. This can with be observed in the “talk” between hen and chick. The chick chirps with long, high sounds, and the hen answers with a deep, soft voice.  Our chickens talk a lot, especially after laying an egg.  They cackle loudly, as if to say, “Look at me, I laid an egg.”

The girls also are staying up later and later and getting up earlier.  They are going to bed at nine or later and getting up around five thirty.  Once, I heard one at four, which surprised me, but she was fine!

So, the farm moves on, with our fifteen lovable chickens and their caretakers.

Our yard has a variety of features that attract the local animal populace.  First off, we have a good-sized yard (one or more acres). We live along a river, so the back end of our yard meets the river.  The other feature is that we have a mini-farm of fifteen chickens (to read about their latest antics/cuteness, read Spring Is Here) that tend to attract many unwanted guests.

We have many guests due to the first two features (yard size, river, etc…).  For example, that deer was probably ambling up from the river.  More than once we have had random animals run through our yard.  Once, my mom was reading on the back deck, and a coyote sprinted through the yard without a glance, stopped, and ran to the river.  We believe that the coyote dens are down there.  Also, because of our yard size, we will have flocks of up to twenty turkeys fly though or land in our yard throughout the spring, summer, and fall.  Last summer, some beavers who lived in dams in our river or in offshooting streams, entered our yard and chewed down a nice line of trees marking our property and providing privacy in a few, quick nights.  We also have a very large chipmunk, squirrel, and raccoon population.  Finally, we have occasional visits from deer and other large animals.

The chickens also have a habit of attracting unwarranted guests.  Once, last summer a fox broke in and killed one chickens and had another in its jaws when my parents scared it off (the jaw-trapped chicken lived).  Just today, we also had the neighbor’s dog in the yard, who was amused with them, but not aggressive.  Finally, a variety of other animals (small children included) enter and are highly interested in the chickens.

So, no matter how diverse some yards may be, if I might say so, we have an incredibly diverse yard!

“I’d like to take them [her puppies] down to the shore, but I’m afraid they might damage the sea.”
Dodie Smith, author of The Hundred and One Dalmatians

I don’t know what kind of damage Ms. Smith was envisioning, but after seeing what two cats can do to a house in two weeks, I tend to think anything’s possible.

I like mice, and chipmunks and laboratory rats. I’d probably like sewer rats, too, but I’ve never met any. They live in sewers, I don’t — in spite of what some unfriendly people may say.
George Jonas

Even if someone did live in a sewer, they’d probably never meet a rat if they kept a cat around. Hey, it works for us.

The greatest pleasure of a dog is that you may make a fool of yourself with him and not only will he not scold you, but he will make a fool of himself too.
Samuel Butler

And the dog won’t tell anyone about it, even if you do.

If a dog jumps in your lap, it is because he is fond of you; but if a cat does the same thing, it is because your lap is warmer.
Alfred North Whitehead

True, I’m afraid – one of the most affectionate cats who ever stayed with us was a “hairless’ Cornish Rex. They’re known for being cuddly, but I think it’s their way of staying warm.

A hen is only an egg’s way of making another egg.
Samuel Butler

So, does this settle the question of which came first?

A brave chicken shows some skin

However, with the arrival of spring comes the disappearance of feathers.  Our girls are molting right now, which makes their appearance a little less than beautiful.  They have bald spots on their necks, backs, and even (ahem) bottoms.  So, currently they are a little less photogenic.

A benefit to the arrival of spring is the appearance of more eggs.  A typical day yields about 10 eggs from our 15 chickens, which means that our friends benefit from the arrival of spring also.  The kids have discussed putting an “egg stand” at the end of our driveway this summer.  We’ll see how long that lasts. . .

Finally, with spring here comes the arrival of chick ordering.  Let me state for the record that I am very glad that I went to purchase feed and shavings most recently.  When I entered our farm store, the owner let me know that he was taking orders for chicks and asked if we’d need anymore.  I told him we were quite happy with our brood of 15, though I wonder if my dear husband would have debated putting an addition on the coop and ordering a dozen more. . .

On Monday, which was not declared a Pajama Day (thankfully), I headed to the kitchen to refill my coffee cup.  While taking my first sip, I took a quick look at the girls’ pen.  Although it was a chilly morning, the girls were pecking at the ground and squawking happily.

As my eyes traced the edge of their pen from left to right, I noticed that Miracle Girl was on the outside of the pen, and she did not seemed pleased.  She was moving her head, as if trying to find an opening through which she could return to the safety of her pen.

Fully dressed for the day, I grabbed a pair of shoes and headed outside.  As I approached Miracle Girl, she became even more flustered.  It seemed that she couldn’t decide if my appearance would make the situation better or worse.  Luckily, she didn’t want to run away from the pen but merely run around the edge of it.  So, after a quick turn to the left followed by a turn to the right, I grabbed her.

With a fierce flapping of her wings, she tried to show me that she did not think I would be helpful.  She soon learned otherwise, as I gently placed her back inside the pen.  Returned to the safety of her pen, she joined a few of the other chickens for a drink of water.

I guess that one of these days during my lunch break, the mesh roof that was taken down for the winter months will need to be replaced.  Because as much as I enjoy watching the girls during my breaks, I really don’t enjoy chasing them around the pen. . .especially on a Pajama Day!