I've been keeping three chickens in the garage over night for more than a week now, one in a dog crate and two in a bird cage. They're all recovering from fowl pox. Two more birds, also with pox, have been staying outside in the winter coop. Last night, the temperature was predicted to dip down into the 30's, so I started to be a little concerned about the two birds out there in the winter coop (two birds don't generate that much heat for themselves, they're recovering from pox, and they're Serama hybrids, too). Since the garage is running ten degrees warmer than the coop, I decided to let everybody sleep in the garage last night.
So I get all the chickens tucked into their sleeping quarters in the garage but for Martha, the lead hen and the wildest of our chickens. I have to chase her into a corner of the pen and it takes me fifteen minutes of concerted effort to finally grab the little ....darling. When I bring her to the garage and try to put her in the crate where her BFF Pokey is already settling into the pine shavings, Martha freaks, struggles and escapes my grasp. She's flying all over the garage, squawking, and I'm thinking "great, I 'm never going to corner her in this garage..." when all of a sudden, from out of his own crate, I hear Beaky the rooster singing the egg song.
Martha stops, suddenly becomes tranquil. I walk over to her, pick her up easily and put her in her crate. Go figure!
So I get all the chickens tucked into their sleeping quarters in the garage but for Martha, the lead hen and the wildest of our chickens. I have to chase her into a corner of the pen and it takes me fifteen minutes of concerted effort to finally grab the little ....darling. When I bring her to the garage and try to put her in the crate where her BFF Pokey is already settling into the pine shavings, Martha freaks, struggles and escapes my grasp. She's flying all over the garage, squawking, and I'm thinking "great, I 'm never going to corner her in this garage..." when all of a sudden, from out of his own crate, I hear Beaky the rooster singing the egg song.
Martha stops, suddenly becomes tranquil. I walk over to her, pick her up easily and put her in her crate. Go figure!
