What a(nother) crazy day this has been. Life seems full of them lately, I must admit.
I started out by cleaning the chicken coop. We've had the girls just a few days over a month now and it was time for the first monthly clean-out. It took me a few days to work up to this. On Sunday the 31st of August, the one-month "anniversary" of getting our hens, I really started to think about the need for the clean out. Then on Monday it was Labor Day and really hot outside and, well, I wasn't going to do it on a holiday! So on Tuesday I was thinking about it really a lot, but that was about it. Then on Wednesday I went and got a couple bales of straw to use as bedding, but still didn't do any cleaning.
So finally today was the day. I kept the hens "cooped up" in their house while I cleared the old bedding and all its other contents (poop, food scraps, etc.) out into the wheelbarrow and then into the compost piles. This was tricky as the space both inside the run and outside of it in the back corner of the yard is small and the pitchfork handle is long. I spread one of the new straw bales in the run and it's enough to cover it up to 2 feet high. A little much, but I figured it will get trampled down soon enough. I put the food tray and water back in and opened the coop door to let the hens out.
Well, that was about 6 hours ago or more.
The hens are still in the coop. They keep peeking out but are scared to death of their new bedding! They won't go near it. They have to be starving, as they usually are every morning when we let them out. They have to come out and eat at some point, don't they?
Are chickens stupid enough to starve themselves to death just so they don't have to go near the new and unfamiliar bedding? I guess we'll see--more on that later.
I'm waiting for George to get home from work and help me get the hens out of the coop so I can clean the actual house part out. Yes, I'm still afraid to touch the hens. Did I ever mention I'm terrified of things with wings? I think I forgot all about that when I was so chicken-crazy. I like the hens just fine, as long as I don't have to touch them. I think they like me fine as long as I don't touch them, either. So it's mutual.
I started out by cleaning the chicken coop. We've had the girls just a few days over a month now and it was time for the first monthly clean-out. It took me a few days to work up to this. On Sunday the 31st of August, the one-month "anniversary" of getting our hens, I really started to think about the need for the clean out. Then on Monday it was Labor Day and really hot outside and, well, I wasn't going to do it on a holiday! So on Tuesday I was thinking about it really a lot, but that was about it. Then on Wednesday I went and got a couple bales of straw to use as bedding, but still didn't do any cleaning.
So finally today was the day. I kept the hens "cooped up" in their house while I cleared the old bedding and all its other contents (poop, food scraps, etc.) out into the wheelbarrow and then into the compost piles. This was tricky as the space both inside the run and outside of it in the back corner of the yard is small and the pitchfork handle is long. I spread one of the new straw bales in the run and it's enough to cover it up to 2 feet high. A little much, but I figured it will get trampled down soon enough. I put the food tray and water back in and opened the coop door to let the hens out.
Well, that was about 6 hours ago or more.
The hens are still in the coop. They keep peeking out but are scared to death of their new bedding! They won't go near it. They have to be starving, as they usually are every morning when we let them out. They have to come out and eat at some point, don't they?
Are chickens stupid enough to starve themselves to death just so they don't have to go near the new and unfamiliar bedding? I guess we'll see--more on that later.
I'm waiting for George to get home from work and help me get the hens out of the coop so I can clean the actual house part out. Yes, I'm still afraid to touch the hens. Did I ever mention I'm terrified of things with wings? I think I forgot all about that when I was so chicken-crazy. I like the hens just fine, as long as I don't have to touch them. I think they like me fine as long as I don't touch them, either. So it's mutual.
Comments
Namaste,
Devin