Sadness

Our chickens bring us such joy. We love them so very much. Even the ones we ended up eating.

A few days ago, we came home to a gruesome sight - most of the 'pet' flock lay dead in our yard. 7 of the ten were gone.

We *think* it was foxes. Or maybe a neighbor's dog. It wasn't ours... they were tied up at the time... just out of reach to save them.

We still have a flock up top in the meadow. We still have the 8 babies and 4 turkeys. We still have Waddly Wanda, Mystery, and our Silke rooster Fluffernutter.

But we lost two of the original girls that I got oh so long ago, on sale, my first spring here. We lost Cindy.

And we lost Henrietta.

We miss our chickens :(

Henrietta, poised.

When she was all molty and having issues, we gave her an epsom salt bath and got to spend the night inside with us. She even got blow-dried.

Henrietta was a great companion while I waited for Mr Snarkles to arrive. (Those are my really pregnant feet)

The morning I went into real labor, I walked up by the meadow with my mom and the meadow was covered in beautiful mist... and chickens.

No matter how many times Mr Snarkles yanked on her feathers or her comb, she never pecked him. Not once.

Fast friends.

Cindy indignant stare while she molted was quite the thing...

Awkward stage...

Lookout scouts.

Henrietta looking for Mike. Per usual.

The first few weeks of her laying life, she would only lay eggs on the couch...

...and I would come home to this...

... and sometimes this.

Holiday Layaway Plan

With housebuilding, working, 3 kids to shop for, etc, etc, by the time Thanksgiving and Christmas roll around the thought of shelling out some serious dough for a bird for the table just seems to hard to do.

This year, I'm going with a layaway plan:

Baby Turkeys. Cute. For now.

Four baby turkeys. I only wanted 3 but the nice young man at Southern States held them for me and I couldn't help but feel bad to leave him with just one.

And before you get all "oh but they're so cute and if you name them you can't eat them" and blah blah blah on me, yes they have names, and YES we will eat them. Their name are: Thanksgiving, Christmas, Alternate-In-Case-We-Fuck-Up, and.... (wait for it)... Bob. Everyone should have a turkey named Bob.

Since I was firing up the brooder anyway, I got 8 Easter Eggers:

Baby Easter Eggers. Floooooofy.

The child put them in their new home:

Hard at work

The two groups are mingling fine and getting along well!

Hello?

Bob

And for no reason at all:

Mr Snarkles!

Oddly looking forward to the holidays this year!