Fluffy Butt Acres: Stories of our flock

[rural mouse]

Don’t get me started with crazy laws that are still on the federal books in my United States

Hey, I recall reading about somewhere it being illegal to walk your goldfish. While looking for where (couldn't find it), I discovered that it's illegal wor a wife to cut her hair without her husband's permission in one state, dogs aren't allowed to bark after certain times, cats aren't allowed on display after certain times in Japan (?). I knew Montana still has it on the books: businesses (including schools and public buildings) are required to provide stabling (corral/shelter) and water for your horse while you're there.

Crazy laws tax

 

[rural mouse]

Maybe that’s Canada !”?

It was Minnesota, Wisconsin, Michigan area, said state border.

 

[rural mouse]

Rained most of the day. Only birds I saw when I got home were the junior trio of hormones. Rain mostly stopped. Had dinner, went to close coop....head count: 23....where's Pippa? Back out. Start search under the olives, calling....glance over toward the wood pile (her preferred hangout, and eyeballed on way to coop). There she is (no idea where she'd been when I walked by going to the coop). "Pippa, come on, girl, let's go." (From next to the olive trees). Response: speedy chicken dash across the yard to me. She starts to head in, Hector comes out. Instant about face and off she bolts, him in hot pursuit. Looped around the coop, not quite sure what happened, but suddenly back she comes, only to take flight...to my shoulder. Hector pulls up short (he isn't too keen on flying other than up to roost). Walk into coop, attempt to get her to step off onto nest box ledge.........
Great....now I have dirty chicken toes tangled into my French braid (plait for UK term). Let me just say, untangling chicken toes from a braid behind your head, while bent over a bit and twisting so she has support/isn't panicking over terrible footing is HARD! Finally successful, WITHOUT her freaking out, only to find Hector is lurking outside the door rather than inside....inside head count: still 23. Eventually he went in, closed/secured the doors. Now to go wash my hair...

 

[rural mouse]

Rained most of the day. Only birds I saw when I got home were the junior trio of hormones. Rain mostly stopped. Had dinner, went to close coop....head count: 23....where's Pippa? Back out. Start search under the olives, calling....glance over toward the wood pile (her preferred hangout, and eyeballed on way to coop). There she is (no idea where she'd been when I walked by going to the coop). "Pippa, come on, girl, let's go." (From next to the olive trees). Response: speedy chicken dash across the yard to me. She starts to head in, Hector comes out. Instant about face and off she bolts, him in hot pursuit. Looped around the coop, not quite sure what happened, but suddenly back she comes, only to take flight...to my shoulder. Hector pulls up short (he isn't too keen on flying other than up to roost). Walk into coop, attempt to get her to step off onto nest box ledge.........
Great....now I have dirty chicken toes tangled into my French braid (plait for UK term). Let me just say, untangling chicken toes from a braid behind your head, while bent over a bit and twisting so she has support/isn't panicking over terrible footing is HARD! Finally successful, WITHOUT her freaking out, only to find Hector is lurking outside the door rather than inside....inside head count: still 23. Eventually he went in, closed/secured the doors. Now to go wash my hair...

The little miss who maybe knows her name...(alongside a still tatty Nellie)

 

[micstrachan]

Any chance you guys can swing getting the property?

Not at that price, no. If it ends up sitting for a year or two, we would consider a lowball offer, but we cannot afford two million dollar mortgages.

 

[micstrachan]

Rained most of the day. Only birds I saw when I got home were the junior trio of hormones. Rain mostly stopped. Had dinner, went to close coop....head count: 23....where's Pippa? Back out. Start search under the olives, calling....glance over toward the wood pile (her preferred hangout, and eyeballed on way to coop). There she is (no idea where she'd been when I walked by going to the coop). "Pippa, come on, girl, let's go." (From next to the olive trees). Response: speedy chicken dash across the yard to me. She starts to head in, Hector comes out. Instant about face and off she bolts, him in hot pursuit. Looped around the coop, not quite sure what happened, but suddenly back she comes, only to take flight...to my shoulder. Hector pulls up short (he isn't too keen on flying other than up to roost). Walk into coop, attempt to get her to step off onto nest box ledge.........
Great....now I have dirty chicken toes tangled into my French braid (plait for UK term). Let me just say, untangling chicken toes from a braid behind your head, while bent over a bit and twisting so she has support/isn't panicking over terrible footing is HARD! Finally successful, WITHOUT her freaking out, only to find Hector is lurking outside the door rather than inside....inside head count: still 23. Eventually he went in, closed/secured the doors. Now to go wash my hair...

I’m sorry, but I have to laugh at this. I know… funny, not funny!

 

[micstrachan]

Dorothy has decided she will brave the cold and go outside, her feathers are starting to come back in.

View attachment 3277215
View attachment 3277216

Even the top of her head lost feathers

She’s looking good. But poor girl… that really was a hard molt!

 

[micstrachan]

A Caturday treat

Not just chickens fall in the pool.

Aww, poor baby!

 

[featherhead007]

I’m looking for a chicken sitter. Money is no object , but must have lap chicken experience.

 

[micstrachan]

She is walking better, for a bit there I was freaked out with her staggers walk. But I think it was the feathers on her belly and legs rubbing that were causing discomfort.

I know she run darn fast, I had an explosive mishap last night with the water tank pump in the feed room - when i got that under control I looked for her and she was gone like the wind hahaha she hasnt been back in here since!

All that water spraying everywhere and ferocious hissing of air… water tank flying off the pump - it was enough to send me running!

Ester had a really strange, staggered squat walk when she had a winter hard molt. It mostly seemed like discomfort, but she stopped eating completely and started having neurological issues. She was inside with heat and tube feeding for two weeks! She seemed to fully recover, except she never really laid again.

Less than a year later, I had her euthanized because her crop stopped completely, besides my best efforts, and an avian vet was unable to draw fluid off, even though she had ascites. It turned out she had a thickened abdominal wall and advanced ovarian cancer, blocking her digestive tract. I’m glad your Dorothy is just having a hard molt.