Now that spring has sprung, I’m more willing to do outdoor guard duty while the chickens have some walkabout time at the edges of the woods and in the yard.
They have the run of the place for at least a couple of hours most days. But when I open their outdoor run, the first thing all the chickens do is run, run, run for a spot between the back of the house and my Miss Kim lilac. This is where they bathe.
For chickens, a bath doesn’t involve water and bubbles. It involves loose dirt or dust.
The chickens dig and scratch with their sharp nails until there is a nice, soft patch of loose soil. Then each hen nestles down into the spot that she has prepared and wallows around, scratching and kicking the soil onto her back, opening her wings and rolling around. It looks like chicken heaven. You should be so happy in the bath.
This little ritual serves a useful purpose for the chickens. In hot weather it helps to cool them off as the soil particles work their way into the feathers. It also goes a long way toward avoiding mites, lice and other parasites. So the dirt bath is serious chicken hygiene.
For me, the chickens have also done me a favor. They have completely eradicated some invasive morning glories that no amount of weeding could control. In the years BC (Before Chickens), the morning glories would often wind their way into the lilac bush.
“Hey, wait!” you say. “Where is the big man while all these hens are bathing?”
Well, T. Boone Chickens usually takes a very abbreviated bath and then standards guard to ensure that the hens are protected and have their privacy.
He’s such a gentleman.
P.S. This is not really a chicken blog. But I do have a chicken section in my photo album. Have you visited it?
Robin
Dear Members of the Management:
In all fairness, we must finally register our indignation and outrage at the absurd and abusive treatment to which we, your chickens, have been subjected in recent weeks.
We will be brief in registering the atrocities we have endured, but we must insist on going on the record with our complaints and insist on remediation of the situation immediately.
First, you shortened our daylight hours to a mere nine or ten hours of feeble sunlight. We have work to accomplish, laying eggs and scratching for bugs. Both of these activities require copious amounts of daylight to do successfully. Everyone knows that egg production is an arduous activity that requires at least 12 hours of sunlight. Although you have installed two dim bulbs, which you amusingly call energy-efficient, they in no way mimic the true brilliance of the natural sunlight to which we are rightfully entitled.
Second, you lowered the outdoor temperatures to an uncomfortable level. Some days it barely reaches above 30 degrees outdoors. Although you have installed a heating system within the coop, we must point out that it does not extend to the outdoors, thus creating a hardship for all of us hens when we venture past the window and into the outdoor run. We must make the difficult decision to stay indoors huddled next to the panel heater or brave the elements for a bit of fresh air and bug scratching. Again, outdoor warmth is a basic right to which we feel we are entitled.
Although these first two complaints are significant to the extent to warrant investigation by the animal humane authorities and the chicken workforce health and safety officials, it is your recent actions that are the most negatively extreme and egregious use of your management powers.
This thing you spread on the ground (you call it “snow”), is frightfully cold, wet and uncomfortable. It caused us to remain within the coop walls—cooped up, so to speak—for a full three days before you provided relief in the way of scattered leaves and shoveling that allowed us to exit for some exercise and air. U.S. airline passengers are provided with more amenities during periods of such confinement! To add insult to injury, you continued your war of inconvenience with the diminished sunlight and reduced outdoor temperatures.
The most hideous abuse of power, however, is your refusal to open the gate for our customary late-afternoon walkabout in the yard. We have consulted the calendar and calculate that it has been nearly TWO WEEKS since you have afforded us the opportunity to patrol for bugs and stretch our wings outside the confines of the coop and outdoor run. Outrageous!
It is beyond the bounds of decency how you can manage a flock under these conditions and yet expect us hens to maintain our efficiency in egg production and bug control. Your extreme insensitivity to the plight of us chickens during these past few weeks boggles our minds. We are confused. We are resentful. And we insist on correction of each of these situations immediately.
Respectfully yours,
The Chickens
P.S.
We have the phone number for the SPCA and we’re not afraid to use it.
Robin
That’s right. Bring it on, baby.
I have a month’s worth of groceries, a snow shovel and plenty of work and projects to keep me busy. It’s a good thing too because we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. Do you see our driveway? No, I don’t either.
What I thought was eight inches of snow is probably more like 12 or 14. And it’s still coming down. I just returned from a little mercy mission to clear the bird feeders and sprinkle around some whole peanuts and black oil sunflower seed. The birds practically landed on my shoulders they were so happy to see me.
The chickens are just fine in their insulated and heated coop. But they were confused when I opened their window to the world and there were no colors out there—just white. I figure they’ll get tired of looking out in a while and I’ll go back and close the window.
For little dogs, Sarah and Sophie adore the snow. They hop around like bunnies—well, at least until they get bogged down. So this morning’s exercise was some aerobic snow shoveling for a small potty path.
The East Coast is getting pounded. If you’re in our part of the world I hope you’re safe, warm and have plenty of interesting things to keep you busy today.
Robin
