All the chicken topics are gone so I want to start a new one.
We are having chicken trouble. One of the new little hens hatched last fall got attacked by a feral cat several weeks ago. A few tail feathered pulled out, but nothing serious. But, suddenly the rooster, that was hatched with her, won't have her anywhere near his harem any more. He will chase her halfway across the yard. If he catches her, he pounces and pulls feathers out. He is very good with the other girls so I didn't want to get rid of him; I figured the other hens would pick on her anyway even if he is gone. So, I made her a separate pen. She isn't happy and wants to get out to range. If I let her out when he isn't around, she can skiddaddle to a safe place. If he sees me with her, he even sasses me. Yesterday, I saw she was really beat up on the head. I put her in her pen and secured it; she will just have to stay there.
Then, one of our older hens got bad feet. From the internet, we deduced it was gout. She got so bad she couldn't walk, so we had to do her in.
The poet Walt Whitman said he could "turn and live with the animals, so placid and self-contained". Obviously, he never observed the animal world up close, especially chickens.
We are having chicken trouble. One of the new little hens hatched last fall got attacked by a feral cat several weeks ago. A few tail feathered pulled out, but nothing serious. But, suddenly the rooster, that was hatched with her, won't have her anywhere near his harem any more. He will chase her halfway across the yard. If he catches her, he pounces and pulls feathers out. He is very good with the other girls so I didn't want to get rid of him; I figured the other hens would pick on her anyway even if he is gone. So, I made her a separate pen. She isn't happy and wants to get out to range. If I let her out when he isn't around, she can skiddaddle to a safe place. If he sees me with her, he even sasses me. Yesterday, I saw she was really beat up on the head. I put her in her pen and secured it; she will just have to stay there.
Then, one of our older hens got bad feet. From the internet, we deduced it was gout. She got so bad she couldn't walk, so we had to do her in.
The poet Walt Whitman said he could "turn and live with the animals, so placid and self-contained". Obviously, he never observed the animal world up close, especially chickens.