The Girl's Little Adventure *PLUS!* An Unknown Danger

Today I let the girls out for some supervised free-ranging. I greeted the flock at the door with a cup full of yogurt. Oh, how they were so overjoyed. They all poured out of their enclosure and followed me (with my cup of yogurt) to a sunny spot where I set down the yogurt. The pullets swarmed.

Yumm, yogurt always satisfies.

Lemon's yogurt face.

After the yogurt all disappeared (mostly down the throat of big ole' Lemon), they walked on the rock wall and hopped near some new green grass. I wasn't long before they got a bit too close to the neighbor's, and I guided them with a stick to forage elsewhere.

Top and bottom: Charcoal, Lemon, and Spice make their way to the fresh green grass.

They ran up the slope of my yard. . .

Rounded a bend and headed over to the pool.

Lime was last to follow. She picked and pecked at the ground until she looked up...Oh no! The flock was leaving without her!And she quickly hurried over.

Enjoying the hoard of weeds, yet to be eaten!

Then, after getting bored, they wandered over to the forest's edge. I followed them to make sure they didn't get into any trouble.

Very excited, the girls bound anxiously over to unexplored weeds, leaf piles, and uneaten insects.

Here in the picture the flock is finding food right at the forest's edge.

Today was yet another beautiful day (except for the wind and cold) for exploring, and clearly the flock enjoyed it as much as I had. Everyone was happy and very occupied by their task, as they scratched and overturned wet leaves. Lime was joyously pecking away at the ground, she walked towards the old white picket fence then lifted her head. I thought everything was well until Lime stretched her neck and sounded the predator alarm. . .

"Ba-gawk! Ba-awk!!"

"Ba-ba-ba-baw-awk!"

The girls' heads all shot up straight and they clucked nervously along, my eyes immediately turned and searched in the sky. I saw nothing, no hawks or falcons of any sort. Confused, I looked back at the girls. Their neck were all swerved at the direction of the forest. Using them as a guide, I finally saw what had alarmed Lime. 

There was a medium sized coyote sneaking around the forest, still a bit far away from me and the hens. The coyote was a grayish-brown color that blended very well with his surroundings (the dry leaves scattered around the forest and the trees that had still not grown their buds out), and it was almost impossible to spot unless you had a chicken or other animal around with you. He had been very silent as he neared us, for I had heard nothing.

The coyote seemed to be taken by surprise by Lime's predator alarm call, and now stood still watching us.

I quickly bawked my alarm calls very loudly, to let him know that he had been spotted and could not hide anymore. I grabbed my camera as the coyote made his swift departure deeper into the forest towards a large brush-pile.

Here in this picture, the coyote is turning to leave. Oh, and sorry for the blurriness, I was in a  rush.

I hushed the girls and ushered them back to their enclosure. I now knew, NEVER to let any of the pullets out of my sight for too long. And since I live near a lake bustling with wildlife, I will probably meet another coyote again or maybe some other predator. 

I also took a look in my chicken book called Storey's Guide to Raising Chickens, by Gail Damerow, and read about different chicken alarm calls. I figured that Lime had made an "alarm cackle", which is, as said from the book, "a more consistent caution call announcing the approach of an apparent predator on the ground or perched in a nearby tree.It consists of a brief series of short, sharp sounds followed by one loud, high pitched sound. . .Other chickens may take notice, and some may join the cackling while stretching their necks to get a better look and moving around in an agitated way. . ."

Sugar's Story

Sugar was a Red Star that I used to have, she was taken away by a fox this year but I will always remember her. I first got her in 2010 along with some other chicks at a feed store she was labeled as a Red Cross I didn't know much about chickens and their breeds and when I searched for the breed Red Cross I never found anyone else with the same breed. Later on I found out that she was a Red Sex-Link (also known as a Red Star, Golden Comet, Cinnamon Queen, there are lots of other names too), some common crosses are crossing between a Rhode Island Red or a New Hampshire Red rooster bred with either a Light Sussex, Rhode Island White, and Delaware female. Many hatcheries or breeders will mix in a little bit of other some other breeds as well. There are also specific crosses for each name, but let's not get into the specifics.

 As her name suggests, Sugar is as sweet as sugar. Her name originally came from a baby kitten I once named at a pet store "Sugar" because of its brown sugar colored coat. She laid an egg every day (except for when she took days off to rest and regenerate her color pigments for egg color) and would come running towards you when you called her name, many times she would decide to follow people instead of her flock. In her first year she got unlucky and a raccoon who passed by my yard decided to make a snack out of her toes. 

In the morning I woke up to frightened, groaning, and shocked hens who were pacing back in forth bawking their complaints in the coop; waiting anxiously to be let out. All over the roost and coop bars was blood that belonged to Sugar. I opened the coop doors to get her out while the rest of the flock not caring for their wounded comrade flew impatiently out, ruffling their feathers after landing. As soon as I set poor Sugar down on the wet grassy lawn, she collapsed (probably in pain) on the ground unable to stand up and follow the other hens who were already making their rounds to the dust-bathing tree. Quickly gathering her in my arms,  ran into the house, rinsed her wounds in water, and searched for something to wrap around her wounds. In a drawer with band-aids I found some First Aid hurt free wrap and wrapped her wounds, to secure the wrapping I also wrapped First Aid tape around her feet as well.

Changing Sugar's bandages.

Every 3 days I would check her toes and rub neosporin on her wounds then wrap new First Aid wrap on her toes. In about 1 month she could walk and would sometimes stand up in her box to stretch, once in a while she would hop out, but would always go back in the cardboard box to rest her feet and sleep. A few weeks later I decided to bring  Sugar outside to see her friends. As soon as I set her on the ground everyone (the flock) stared at her, they bawked in a long stretched voice ending in a staccato of hiccups. Then brave Pine stepped out from the group and gave her the stare, poor Sugar obediently drooped her head down and was greeted by a harsh peck on the comb. Sugar then got up and started running for her life to the Japanese spirea bush, the entire flock chased after her and cornered her so she could not get away and started beating Sugar up. Ripping her comb, pecking at her neck, whatever they could do to get rid of this stranger in their property. Horrified by the flock's reaction, I ran towards them and shooed the mean girls away, then grabbed Sugar to safety. I never thought that my hens would treat an old flock member like this; it was as if Sugar was a complete stranger to them. Some parts of her comb was cut and bleeding so I applied Vaseline on them. Next time Sugar came outside I would watch her more carefully so she could not get hurt.

Sweet little Sugar resting in her cardboard box.

After another month I decided that it was time for Sugar to return to her old flock. She could walk though had to do it very slowly sort of hobbling along the way, when she ran she would limp/run to a hiding spot or to me. This time as I introduced Sugar to the girls they only gave her a few disciplinary pecks and it was over, Sugar was back in the flock! Even though she was accepted her rank had severely dropped from middle rank to the lowest order, probably due to her disability. As the weeks passed Sugar got better at running and walking, though she could never run as fast as the other chickens, at least she could run to hide when danger emerged. Sugar slowly got more accustomed to her flock mates and in the end she fit right in.

Happily foraging in the yard.