Critter Update, June 2006
Talullah as a chick.
With a heavy heart, I have to tell you that Talullah, our Easter Egger hen, who turned 2 years old back in April, passed away on Monday, June 19th. On this day, she was the first, as usual, popping out of the shed, trotting about energetically. For some reason, I had a momentary "odd feeling" about Talullah, but shrugged it off and went on about my day. She looked fine, as she always did.
That evening, when I went to check on the feed level and to give them fresh water, I saw Talullah with her head between the wall and the tire stand that I made for the Muscovies to stand on. She was panting and had her rear up in the air.
I had been fighting a fever and cold that day, and felt hot, too, so I thought that Talullah may be hot as well. I brought her inside to a cooler house and fixed her a place in the animal crate, complete with clean towel, food, water, and a gel pack that had been cooled in the freezer was put under the towel, where she was laying. I had felt for an egg in her abdomen, but didn't feel it. Her abdomen felt a little hard, but not like she had an egg there. I was wrong, because as I read up on it later, Talullah had displayed the symptoms of egg binding, a not so common, but common enough ailment of different species of poultries that if not treated correctly and quickly, the hen could die. Talullah had never shown any previous signs of egg binding, nor was there ever any blood on her eggs. The worst she had ever got was snapping at those bothering her while she was laying, then once she laid her egg, she was her sunny, busy-body self once again. Talullah never had a broody bone in her body - there was too much to see and explore, even in the confines of a small run.
Talullah died early the next morning.
We cried over our loss of her, because Talullah was a perky, sunny little soul that was much loved by her "sisters" Rosie, Gracie and Miss Wren.. We always likened Talullah to Ginger on "Chicken Run," who was always plotting to escape Farmer Tweedy's farm. If she even had the slightest indication of an open door or gate, Talullah was there and out. She was easy to corner and catch, but that didn't stop her the next time a door or gate was left open, even a crack.
She loved her skinny little earthworms and in spite of being fed every day, had to have her fill of the skinny earthworms. The fat earthworms freaked Talullah, but she loved her skinny earthworms. Talullah also loved Canadian Maple seeds and leaves, tomatoes, french fries, pieces of cheese - and apples. Talullah would be the first to peck a whole apple and try to run with it, while the others would chase after her. Talullah would lose it, but she would get it back time and time again, until there was no apple left.
Talullah never tried mating with Bo-Bo, our outside Rooster, but she would often clean his butt from "dingleberries," sometimes causing Bo-Bo to yelp. When I showed Talullah's body to everyone before getting her ready for burial, Bo-Bo pecked Talullah once on the head, most likely to reprimand her for being out of their enclosed pen. But at that moment, I thought of the times Talullah trying to clean Bo-Bo's butt, and the many times she made him jump.
The ducks couldn't have cared less, the Muscovies stayed away, while Gracie, Rosie and Miss Wren gave Talullah and me the hairy eyeball and walked off, with huge eyes. It has been over three days, and the Chickie Girls are feeling the loss of their little sister and friend. They act sad, and don't bustle around. They don't stick together like they once did, and their little heads hang a bit lower these days. They miss Talullah as we do. Nobody seems to want to be the first chicken out these days, but yet, the ducks don't pick on the Chickie Girls either. The Chickie Girls still get first dibbs on the feed pan after the feed is poured out.
We will miss Talullah and her sunny outlook and funny antics, but especially her zest for life each day, as she would literally pop from the shed into the run. Talullah, you were a good little girl. See you in New Jerusalem.....
What causes egg binding?
The closest I came to experiencing egg binding was when Dandy started laying eggs. Dandy would faithfully lay every day (until she was diagnosed with Hardware Disease, and only laid a couple of eggs then), but she would sometimes lay what some of us would call "leather eggs." These "leather eggs" were in the shape of an egg, but it wouldn't have the shell. It would just have the membrane, the white and yolk, and it was one of the weirdest things I have ever touched. I would get a paper towel to pick it up out of the run and I would throw it in the trash. It never occurred to me that the leather egg could have been poached or boiled back then. I thought it was gross, to say the least.
When Dandy was tested for Hardware Disease, they did a blood test and found that she was a bit low in calcium.
This low level of calcium does not only make for soft or no-shelled eggs, but the hen also needs the calcium to help her muscles push out the egg as well. If the hen is unable to push out the egg, she gets stressed out, and in being stressed, could die.
Also, there are some ducks and chickens that are "internal layers" - for some reason, instead of the egg traveling down the oviduct (kind of like the female Fallopian tube), the egg dumps out in the chicken's or duck's abdomen and forms. Eventually, the eggs build up in the abdomen, killing the hen, if the egg does not get passed out of the vent/cloaca to outside of the body. I didn't have the nerve to do a necropsy on Talullah, so all I have to go on is her symptoms before she passed away.
I should have suspected this when the girls, both duck and chicken, went on strike, not laying any eggs. I had caught the duckie girls (with the exception of Scooter) eating an egg. They had never done that before - or so I thought. Because Scooter had been screaming and doing the cobra thing with her head and neck, so naturally, I suspected egg eating. I fed them some boiled egg with shell, and instead of making the problem go away, it got worse. For a couple of months, I got NO eggs at all, except maybe one from Talullah and one from Gracie each week.
Now I am getting one or two duck eggs a day now. After Talullah died, I put some oyster shell in a pan in the shed, and although the girls gave it the hairy eyeball, some of it has been eaten. It seems like I am locking the chicken shed after the proverbial fox got in, but maybe offering oyster shell more often will hopefully prevent another egg binding tragedy from happening.
Other critter news.... :-)
Itty Bitty's leg has improved to where he is let outside more often. He occasionally limps on that leg, but still runs, jumps, plays, fights and still chases his tail like he used to when he was much younger. We make sure Itty Bitty is in at night - and he is usually ready to come in and go to bed. After all, he is an old man of 13 years old.
George and Indy turned 14 this May, and both are still going strong. Indy is still a little skittish around Meer and Murphy, but he stands his ground with them. Indy likes to be let outside, but like Itty Bitty, Indy likes to be let in at night and is ready to go to bed with us. As ever, Indy gently reminds me when to go to bed. But tonight, since the temperature is much cooler than it was earlier today, Indy was in the window, enjoying the cool air.
Meer and Murphy are being thrown outside once a day, at least, because they refuse to use their litter boxes, even when the litter boxes are clean. That does seem to help on the poop situation. Fly still plays "monitor lizard," but the weather has been pretty hot and humid, with a heat advisory being given today, so she has been keeping cool on the table. I don't like her being on the table, and get after her, but as soon as I turn around, she is right back up there, snoozing.
The inside birds are doing fine, always entertaining us and making us laugh. Dovey will let himself be subjected to being held like a baby, but he will now flog your hand, if you let him, and jump at you from his side of the cage. I tell Dovey he is bad when he does that, and he stops. I think he understands me when I talk to him. He knows what "no" and the hand motion for "Stop" means, and he obeys them, but in a snit, he will peck his girls when you tell him "No." Remember, Dovey is a male-feathered Sebright rooster - a bantam-sized chicken, not a parrot or a macaw or a cockatoo. Just a little Sebright rooster. And they say chickens are dumb...
Dovey's girls are doing fine. If you are eating, and Velma is out, she will practically fly in your face (not attacking), but to stand on your chest, head or shoulders and demand food. She has been known to take a bite out of a sandwich the same time I do, or to share a bowl of mini-ravioli with my husband. Velma's "sister" Vesta is more shy. Yet she will give a little peck to your foot, to let you know that she wants to be picked up and loved on. Vesta's feathers are slowly coming back in. She needs to have an apron made for her, as does Miss Sparrow.
Miss Cotton is still having issues with bumble foot, but it is getting better. One foot is almost completely healed, as the other foot is getting better. Miss Cotton will snuggle with me - sometimes - after I doctor her feet.
Bo-Bo is still cowed by the male ducks, but a new development seems to be happening. Bo-Bo has a new protector - in Kaweyna. Yup, Kaweyna Elvis Duck-Duck has turned out to be a surprise protector to Bo-Bo. It seems that Kaweyna will get after Bo-Bo for trying to romance the Duckie Girls or when Bo-Bo would attack me for no reason. But if Pudge the Pekin picks on Bo-Bo too much, then Kaweyna will get onto Pudge, making him run. There has been more than a couple of times when Kaweyna has stopped Pudge from attacking Bo-Bo by standing between Pudge and Bo-Bo. Since Pudge is also very afraid of Kaweyna, he would go back to his girls. I am sure that Pudge was embarrassed in front of "his girls," but he didn't attack Bo-Bo either.
I have mixed feelings about Bo-Bo being cowed down in this way. I feel bad that Bo-Bo is scared of his own shadow, and I feel bad that Bo-Bo has lost his once glorious tail (It is now red skin and a nub), but Bo-Bo has almost completely stopped attacking me. He did bite me on the arm back in late April, but only because he was freaked out from getting ganged up on by Kaweyna and Pudge, when I tried to pick him up. Bo-Bo will now let me pick him up and he really seems to try to behave himself. He will take a fry or a Canadian Maple seed from me like a gentleman. I still keep an eye out for any sneak attacks (and Bo-Bo acts a bit offended because I keep my guard up with him - and a stick or broom handy, just in case).
This is the only picture I could find of Bo-Bo with his tail. It was at least
twice as long as in this picture before the ducks de-nuded him of his
glorious tail and its streamers. In time, Bo-Bo's tail should grow back.
Critter Update, April, 2006
We survived yet another winter. Unlike the last winter, we had very little snow, having about three inches at the most during one bout of weather. There was no real cold freezing snaps and no two and a half foot snowfalls, like we had last year. But still, I had the little electric heater going in the shed. And unlike last year, scratch was not the sole food. They had some wild bird seed, dry cat food, and some unwanted apples along with generous layer crumbles. I may have gotten them too fat this past winter, as until a couple of months ago, my ducks began laying as faithfully as they ever did. The chickie girls, with the exception of Rosie, have been laying sporadically. Sometimes, I will see a blue egg in the mix, sometimes an olive green egg belonging to Ms. Gracie. But no more light pinkish-brown "yeggies" from Rosie. I haven't been so observant, but I think Rosie may eat her egg about as soon as she lays it. Good thing that Rosie doesn't belong to a more "serious" farmer, or she would be chicken soup or nuggets by now. Other than that, Rosie still is her sweet self, always coming up to the fence to talk to me, enjoying me sneaking my finger in to give her a scratch on the neck or chest.
I learned that hens, both duck and chicken go through a spell in the winter, where they temporarily retire from laying eggs. Even my house hens had a stretch of a few days where they didn't lay at all, then would surprise me with an egg or two during the week. Then it would be back to no laying for a few days. During this time, feathers were molted, especially with my Muscovy female. So that was one of the reason for virtually no eggs from either the ducks or chickens.
This spring, my youngest ducks, Twee Quackette and Junebug started adding their eggs to the mix. Their eggs are smaller than their mother Squeakers' eggs, but the people I give my duck eggs to don't seem to mind.
Scooter, my female Muscovy duck, has tried three times since last fall to be a momma, but no luck. I was lax in collecting the eggs last week, and waited two instead of collecting the eggs daily or at least every other day. I candled two of the eggs in our darkened bedroom with a flashlight and two of Scooter's eggs had loose, oopy masses in them that meant a baby duck died in the eggs. No doubt, I tossed those eggs. Scooter gets upset with me stealing eggs, and all I can do is tell her "sorry," and give her a hug. I had thought that she hadn't had fertile eggs before, but I think that she had three babies last year out of the ones that died. I believe Little Blackfoot, the little duck that hatched with Twee last May, may have been one of Scooter's babies. Ironically, after Twee and Little Blackfoot had hatched, then did Scooter become broody. Poor Scooter.
Twee on left, Little Blackfoot on right.
Little Blackfoot died from a combination of pasty butt and flip-over, days after she had hatched. She had the prettiest little black and yellow feet. Pasty butt is where poop cakes dry over the rectum, making an impassable "cork" of dried poop and down, with pressure building up from "unshed" poop, usually fatal if the plug is not removed. "Flip Over" is a neurological and often fatal disorder in young ducks and chickens, and especially some ducklings with a crest and/or the "fatal gene." This is where a duckling has trouble keeping its balance once it starts walking and has great difficulty in righting or getting itself back in a standing/walking position. The duckling very rarely gets better with its balance. If they do make it to adulthood, they are in frail health and have to be watched carefully that they aren't picked on or mated too much.
Little Junebugk, born 23 days after half-sister Twee. Bugk looks like a tattered Mallard, as she is a Muscovy/Mallard mix.
Out of the two, Twee is the most friendly, but Bugk will suffer you picking her up. Bugk's neck smells like a clean little puppy.
I have to share this: for some reason, the ducks will not willingly go in at night. I think they won't go in, because Kaweyna has a habit of counting everyone as they come in - and it hurts, because Kaweyna has a habit of nipping the ducks - hard - as they come in for the night.. Well, one night, I thought I had gotten everyone inside for the night, and went on inside and went about my business. The next day, as I customarily yelled out my "BAY-beeeeeeeeeeezzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!" I thought I heard the customary quack of one of my baby girls a bit plainer than I normally did. Come to find it out, Bugk had spent the night outside by herself.
I figured that that night, that Bugk would willingly go inside, but there she was, hiding from me behind the concrete blocks, hoping I wouldn't see her and she could stay out overnight again. Didn't work. Bugk had to go in the shed. We shall see how it goes tonight.
The pissing contest between Bo-Bo, Pudge and Kaweyna goes on. Kaweyna still rules the roost, and he always reports to me what goes on in the shed during the night. I wish I could understand the Muscovy duck language. Once when Bo-Bo attacked me in the shed, Kaweyna put Bo-Bo outside the shed, with Bo-Bo whining and talking to himself while high-stepping it out to the alley between the shed and garage. All Bo-Bo wanted was a little love.......
Pudge is only loyal to whoever's king. Once Bo-Bo's best buddy, Pudge now never misses an opportunity to make Bo-Bo jump and holler. But a surprising turn of tide turned one day. Much to my surprise, Kaweyna was seeming to protect Bo-Bo!!! I don't know what was with that, but for a day, Kaweyna let Bo-Bo stand close to him without nipping him, and would go after Pudge if he tried biting Bo-Bo.
I think what gets Bo-Bo into trouble is trying to mate with Bugk. Pudge has his harem of three full-time girls. Squeakers and Scooter sometimes shares Kaweyna. Bo-Bo has his one girl, Rosie, but he gets tired of her and goes after the duckie girls, which Kaweyna and Pudge don't like. Better than some soap operas I have seen.
Billie ("Bill") is doing well. She hangs tight with Squeakers and Squeaker's two daughters and Pudge.
Talullah, Gracie, and Miss Wren are doing well. Miss Wren is the head chicken of the coop, keeping even Kaweyna in line with a sharp peck to the neck.
The six cats are still with us, but they have had an eventful year, too.
Fly ended up being pregnant at eleven years of age. Last fall, she got awfully round, and went outside one day and came back skinnier than a rail that afternoon. I followed her around for over two hours, trying to find out where she had her babies, but she literally led me in circles. We tried following her around the next day or two, with the same results. I thought the father of the kittens was this orange tabby across the street, but we will never know. Fly is napping on top of my monitor right now. Not that she loves me so much, but any old warm monitor backed up to the wall will do for Fly.
Meerkat still prefers her space on top of the water heater. On particularly cold nights, she likes to lay on either Dan or me, or with her George.
Murphy still is not housebroken. She is 11 years old.
George and Indy will be 14 this May. It is AMAZING that as old as they are, how healthy they are. George still lets me know if the water bowl is empty or if he sees bottom of the communal food dish. Indy stays close to home and asks to go outside, but comes back sometimes in a few minutes. If I am in a hurry and leave him outside, Indy gives me dirty looks when I get back home, because he has waited so long at the door.
George also is still afraid of thunderstorms and likes to hide under one of the sofas, by my feet at the computer desk or right by my side of the bed. George would go under my side of the bed if he could, but our mattress is on the floor.
Itty Bitty has had it rough with skin problems and fleas. When I put some Flea Drops on him, his coat no longer looked mangy, and the sores on his body almost totally disappeared. He was doing pretty well, until one Friday evening in January, he was hopping around on three legs, with his rear right leg hanging funny. We took him to the vet's and found out that his leg was cleanly broken in three spots. The vet suggested surgery to pin and wire Itty Bitty's leg back together, but doubted that it would properly heal, since Itty Bitty has osteoporosis, where the bones thin out. The third option was not euthanasia, but the amputation of that leg.
It was a hard decision to make, but since Itty Bitty's hip on the opposite side was slowly wearing away and the socket being more exposed in the x-ray, we decided that due to age, we would let Nature take its course and do nothing. If the leg were to get infected, which it wasn't and didn't, we would take Itty Bitty to get his leg amputated.
Within days of going to the vet's, Itty Bitty began gingerly putting weight on his broken leg whenever he would eat or drink. As time went on, Itty Bitty kept putting more weight on that leg and eventually limping on it. Soon the limp went away, and now he runs, jumps and gets into trouble like he used to. Itty Bitty turned 13 this April Fool's Day.
FROM LEFT TO RIGHT: Picture 1: The Banty Babies. From top to bottom in the basket: Vesta, Dovey (the dark one), Velma, and Cotton, the Silkie.
Picture 2: Babies Rhodie the brown duckling and Sparrow the chick. Water bottle is is the box with them to show how tiny they were when I brought them home. Picture 3: Protective Big Sister Twee Quackette (L), Little Blackfoot (C), and still in the egg, Little Junebug (R).
Although I have mentioned Twee, Bugk and Little Blackfoot, I have been remiss in updating you all on the banties and the odd couple, Rhodie and Sparrow.
April of 2005 was a busy time for the Tractor Supply Company Store, and up until late April , they were bringing in and selling ducklings, chicks and rabbits. The mamma urge was running strong in my veins and I purchased Rhodie and Sparrow. They are now both about a year old. and doing well. Sparrow reminds me of a little hawk, while Rhodie is so cute with his crest bobbing as he moves and looks around.
They still aren't totally tamed, but Sparrow the chicken has stopped biting me every chance she got to biting my hubby every chance she got. Dan kept poking his finger in the cage at her, thinking he was playing and being funny. Now he has to watch to see that she doesn't bite him. I have told him to share his food with her, but so far, she still bites. Sparrow lays some smallish but pretty light brown eggs, and although her body looks pale in the picture, she has reddish brown feathers with black centers, making her a Gold Laced Wyandotte (we pronounce it "WHY-an-DOT" here in Ohio). When she is out, Sparrow likes to find soft places to sit (like fresh laundry or the arm of the sofas), and she bums food from me - even peanut butter that she will eat from the spoon. Since Fly the Cat also likes peanut butter from the spoon, Fly isn't too crazy about sharing her portion with Sparrow.
Right now, Sparrow can use all the extra protein that she can get, because in his attempts to mate, Rhodie the Khaki Campbell duck has yanked feathers from Sparrow's neck, upper chest and all down her back. It took about three months for Sparrow to begin to grow some pin feathers on her back and just this last month, Sparrow has been growing some gray down on her chest. Much to his dismay, Rhodie is separated from Sparrow. They do get to spend some time together outside their cage, where I can keep an eye on them.
Rhodie is still very skittish, and kicks and scratches when I flip him on his back. But once I get to rubbing his sides, chest and belly, he calms down. He especially likes having his foot held and rubbed as he is laying in my arms. He is separated from the love of his life, Sparrow, who likes him, but Rhodie seems to get on her nerves a bit by following her every step, like he was glued to her side, but she puts up with it without pecking him. Rhodie does not think he is a duck, and will not take a bath unless I am there, and strongly urge him to take dips. He never swims, but will take a few ducky dips with his head and flap his wings enough to get himself clean. His water is hardly ever dirty, in spite of the lack of baths.
Besides thinking he is a chicken, Rhodie and Sparrow have a dislike for Dovey, the little Sebright Bantam roo. Given the chance, either alone or together, when they get the chance, they put the usually cocky little rooster to running. Sparrow has no tolerance for Dovey and will send him packing. So when we let the inside chickens and duck out, we have to let them out separately. Sparrow usually will not bother the Banty Girls, but has, once or twice. So she is not out when only the Banty Girls are out.
Ah, the Banties...
When Elvis the black and white banty chick died, I went looking for a replacement. I came back home with not only one, but two chicks. I had always wanted a white Silkie and got Cotton. I also looked for a companion for Cotton, and Dovey jumped up on my hand. I never had a chick pick me before, so Dovey came home with us, exuding his itty bitty male vibes.
Vesta never did get the Pasty Butt that Velma and Elvis got. Vesta is the quieter and darker of the Old Dutch/Old English Game hens, and not as affectionate, but she has her times when she flies up to you and lands on your head, shoulder or chest when she wants her love. And when you are kissing her little head and loving on her, she soaks it up with this super serious look on her little face. She is Dovey's favorite hen, and her bare back with the pinfeathers and her bald head testify of Dovey's fondness for her.
Cotton is the biggest of the banties but follows Dovey's lead in just about everything. He pecks her in the head and she doesn't retaliate. Although Cotton is not friendly, neither is she mean. She will patiently sit on my lap and about fall asleep while getting petted. But she enjoys getting out and about with her girlfriends, protecting them when needed. Cotton loves to eat, and her very laid back personality flies out the window when treats are being handed out. Cotton has pecked Itty Bitty on the head for a small piece of cheese - he let her have it. Cotton also likes the blow dryer after she gets her occasional bath. She will about fall asleep when being blow-dried.
Velma is the most affectionate, most out-going of the four banties. She is the one that will insist on sharing my sandwich with me. She will take a bite as I am taking a bite, and she will have spaghetti sauce all over her head as she eats ravioli with my hubby. When I break off a piece of banana, she looks at what I am offering like, "what's this?" as she tries to get the bigger piece. Vesta also has to be watched that she doesn't find rubber bands on the floor as she tries to eat them. She and I have had some pretty serious tug-of-wars over the ownership of a rubber band, which can be funny, as long as she doesn't eat them and I get them away from her. Velma will be much more likely than Vesta to fly on your head, shoulder, chest or back of our chair to visit with us. We love her very much.
Then there's Dovey. He probably weighs a bit over a pound, and he is the proud "cock of the walk." He fiercely protects his girls from possible and unseen dangers and will not eat treats until all his three girls gets enough treats that has been personally broken up into edible parts by Dovey himself, then after all that, then and only then, Dovey will take food for himself. He gets great joy out of finding bits of food for his three girls and announcing to them. "Lookee!!! Lookie what I found!!! This is GREAT!!!!!!!"
Dovey is a very vocal and expressive little roo that sounds the alarm when he sees something out the window, a paper wad flying in the air, or something bad happening on TV. He loves to watch basketball (I think it's the movement on-screen). When I read to him, Dovey makes the sound like he's saying "BALLS!!!" When we go to catch Dovey, it's like he is trotting as fast as his little legs can go while he's saying "no-no-no-no-no!!!!" But when you catch him, he exclaims and lets you kiss him on the back of the neck or top of the head. Lately, he will let me flip him on his back and rub his chest and wattles. Just recently, Dovey likes to be held upright and will not try to peck or bite.
In his cage or out, Dovey will bite. If you have your hand pointing down, Dovey takes that as a challenge to attack and will go charging at either Dan or me. But if we tell Dovey "no," he will stop in his tracks. He will also stop in his tracks if you hold your hand up in the "STOP" position. Smart little dude. But he will get mad sometimes and peck his girls in the head if you tell him not to bite.
A couple of ways we will let him work off his aggressions is either placing him in front of a mirror, where he can peck at the strange rooster all he wants. Or we get an empty chip bag and tell Dovey to go to town on it, and he bites and kicks at the same time, like a little feathered dervish, until he gets tired. Then he is receptive to being held by me, because I get on Dan for over-stimulating Dovey.
Hipefully, later on, I will keep you all updated on my critters (and other things) on my site blog, Moments on Bingamon Farm.
So, until later....