Moving on Out (and Up!)

All in all, everyone handled the move very well. There were only a few breakdowns and moments of unconsolable sobbing.

Ted glumly broke apart his architectural masterpiece:

And, a dude with 24 chickens bought the coop and hauled it away. We're still not sure how that many birds are going to live in the coop, but I guess that's not our problem:

Blondie had a quiet moment after her home dissapeared:

Later in the evening, each bird was put in a moving box for delivery to their new pad in North Berkeley:

And here, the five beauties rest soundly in their new home, the McMansion:

I wonder what happened this morning when they awoke to a whole new world?

To find out, check back later when the new writer of this blog (and mother of the girls) picks up where I left off.

For now, "Adios, mi pollitos!"

Chicken McMansion

This morning, we met with the future parents and toured the new hen digs, and - Whoa! Hello! - the girls are moving into the sweetest chicken pad ever!

It's got every amenity a bird could want, plus it's stylishly painted and even has landscaping!

Desiree and Kristina are super sweet too. They might even be more chicken-crazed than we are (if you look closely, you can see a rooster on that plate of cookies:) Plus, they made us cookies. I'm pretty sure the girls are going to be just fine without us.

August Update

It's been a little wild round here at the Compound due to possum attacks, Rosemary's arrival and our upcoming departure to Spain, so here's where things stand now:

Blondie hasn't layed an egg since May, but we've decided she's molting which is a relief because chicken-depression is not something we are equipped to handle. Check out her funny looking feathers (or lack thereof):

And, Ruthie "the Muscle", did in fact lose part of her beak during one of the possum attacks, but it hasn't slowed her eating nor her bullying down a bit. Check out her underbite:

And Rosemary (far left) has found her place in the flock. In the pecking order, she's somewhere behind Frieda and Blanca but definitely ahead of Ruthie and Blondie. All in all, everyone's just peachy.

New Home (and Family) Needed!

We just heard the terrible news that our humans are moving to Spain in September and they're not taking us with! How rude, right?

We're soon to be coop-less! We desperately need a new backyard and some loving humans to throw table scraps our way, every now and again.

We promise to keep our squawking to a minimum and provide you with nutritious, delicious eggs every morning. We're also very cute and will love you forever.

Sincerely,

Blanca, Frieda, Ruthie and Blondie (and Rosemary, possibly)

A New Guest at the Table

It used to be annoying, but now it's cute. Every time we sit down for a meal, Blanca flies up to the window to join us.

Here she is for lunch:

And Family Dinner Night with Alyce:

And, for a post-work beer:
It's nice having company at mealtime:)

Chicken-Sitting

We are now chicken-sitting for Rosemary, a year-old brown leghorn from the Temescal neighborhood. Welcome to the Compound, Rosemary!

She looks totally freaked in this portrait..... and for good reason.

The story is tragic. Just like our coop, Rosemary's coop was under attack by urban predators looking for a midnight snack. Last Thursday night, a racoon got Rosemary's sister-chicken, leaving Rosemary an only bird. Her parents, Kristina and Deseree, asked us to take Rosemary in while they build a more secure dwelling.

Rosemary's a tough chick though. Our birds are doing their very best to make her feel unwelcome but she's not taking any s%$t. Rosemary does her own thing while our flock huddles together and talks gossip (see below).

I'm just glad Rosemary is here and safe. We're all safer in numbers.

Possum Attack!

Three times now, it's happened. I tried to pretend it was just a fluke and then a coincidence, but now it's official. A possum is after our birds!

This nasty creature - how does anyone find this animal cute?! - creeps out of the sewer to startle our sleeping birds. There's usually some kind of 4-1 brawl, and luckily our birds have won (or at least, survived) every fight.

But not without battle scars. See the dark spots on her beak and comb? That's dried blood.

The other girls are covered in dried blood too and Ruthie has lost part of her beak. Blanca is the only chicken that will let us near her now. The others are totally freaked. And, they've all significantly decreased egg production.

Until this possum decides to find a new place to hunt, our girls will have a 6PM curfew. And, I don't think they'll mind.

Schwarzenegger Stands Up for Chicken Rights

We're not throwing eggs at you this time, Mr. Govenator!

'Cause after all these years, you have finally backed an overworked, underserved segment of California's population - laying hens.

On Tuesday, Schwarzenegger signed A.B. 1437 which "requires all eggs sold in the state as of Jan. 1, 2015, to come from hens able to stand up, fully extend their limbs, lie down and fully extend their wings without touching each other or the sides of cages."

What a concept! It's mind boggling that most chickens get smooshed into teeny-weeny cages, never see the light of day and then somehow, miraculously, produce a delicious and nutritious egg.

Anyway, we're happy that California is blazing the trail for chicken rights. All of us at the Compound are squalking with joy.

Blue Egg Production Down in the Summer Quarter

Our blue egg producer, Blondie, has quit! It's been over a month since we've found a non-brown egg in the nest, and we don't know what's up with our bird.

Okay so, it's true the other hens do pick and peck on her a lot. Even though she's been around for forever, they still treat her like the "newbie". Maybe Blondie's depressed because she has no friends?

Online research gives the following reasons for lack of egg production:

Declining Day Length: Um, no. Today is like the longest day of the year.

Improper Nutrition: Also, no. Our girls get the most expensive chicken feed at the store plus a good sampling of organic vegetable scraps from our very own kitchen.

Broodiness: She never goes into the nest, so it can't be that.

Molting: Nope. She's not losing her feathers.

Age: Again, a big "No". Blondie's only a year old which makes her prime for laying.

Disease: She looks healthy, right?

Conclusion: Our original hypothesis of chicken depression must be accurate. Anyone know a chicken therapist?

The Never-Ending Egg Hunt

Easter was technically three months ago, but for the littlest Compound-mate, Lyla, the fun has never stopped. Every day after pre-school, she walks into our yard with her green basket to see if the girls left any "juevos" for her.

Either way, a seed storm ensues. She and the hens go nuts with the flying seeds. It's a great, new tradition. Thanks, Lyla!

The Littlest Egg that Ever Was

This morning, in the pile of regular-sized eggs, was this tiny wee egg! We think it was left by Ruthie, but one can never say for sure.

One thing I've learned from raising chickens is that home-produced eggs, unlike the store-bought ones, come in all shapes, sizes and colors. Remember a while back, one of our girls laid twins?

We decided to crack the wee egg to see what it held inside. I was hoping for a tweensy, weensy golden yolk.
No such luck, but it was still a fun find.

One Fierce Bird

We've got a fierce bird on our hands. Yesterday, I wrote about Blanca's squawk that drives Ted mad in the mornings.

Today, as I was quietly taking a break from my work to eat some pad thai, Blanca flys up to the window and starts pecking the pane trying to get at my noodles! At first, it was funny, and then I realized she might actually crack the window so I removed my noodle bowl from the scene.

Are we not feeding our birds enough? Or is there something else going on here? Please do advise.

Blanca vs. Ted

Things at the Compound were nice and tranquil for a long while (hence the lack of posts), but around the time of Day Light Savings, the goings-on have become quite heated. Let me introduce the players:

BLANCA

vs.

TED

As soon as the sun rises, Blanca begins her squwak. And, it's not just any ole chicken squwak. It's an ear-piercing, blood-curdiling, angry hollar. It's as if she's saying, "Get the Hell out of bed and give me some scraps, damn-it, right now, PLEEEASE!"

Ted looks out our bedroom window and the two make the above faces at each other.

He takes Blanca's hollar as a personal affront to his morning sleep-time and has begun punishing her by locking her, and only her, up in the coop and giving the other girls some sweet grass.

He claims he's going to fry her up one of these days.

I'll keep you posted.....