Chickie Mama and Auntie

This is Chickie Mama

Several weeks ago, I noticed her on the same nest for three or four days in a row and thought that perhaps she was "broody" and was going to sit her eggs. Because of the prevalence of incubator hatched chickens nowdays,  most hens have lost the inclination to sit eggs. I talked a little about that in  THIS  blog. It took me a few days to decide that maybe her intentions were pure, but until then, each day when she left the nest to eat the grain I throw every morning - talk about mayham!

Each morning about 30 chickens greet me at the porch steps and walk with me - in front of me - under my feet - to the gate, where another 30 or so join in the procession to the feed barn. They all crowd around me, quite frightening really, like an Alfred Hitchcock movie, while I scoop a can of oats to throw, just to get them away from me. Then hastily I scoop feed for the two horses and another can of oats (I find it takes them longer to eat scattered oats than layer pellets, which I throw for them later, after the horses are fed.  I have to act fast because when the oats are finished a good many run to try to steal the horses feed. Obnoxious!

I digress.  For days I took the eggs out of Chickie Mama's  nest while she ate, until I saw that she had  the intention of patiently sitting her eggs for 21 days until they hatched. So I let her be.  Because chicken nests are community nests, I assumed that other hens had been laying there, and, that there were probably quite a few eggs under her. I was sadly disappointed when she got up the next day and there were only three eggs in her nest. I added 7 more.  And there she sat.
I really didn't pay much attention to her - she just kinda did her thing and I did mine until one day I saw THIS...

and became concerned that she had deserted her nest. I also noticed the large number of eggs gathering in the nest behind her. Broody hens become quite territorial and a bit aggressive when sitting eggs, so I had neglected to gather the ones in the back that I could not easily reach.
And then later I saw THIS...

I was disheartened to think that Chickie Mama had given up sitting her eggs and had moved to another nest. As I've mentioned before, I've had a chicken sit a nest of eggs for 18 days and then get up and walk away. It takes a full 21 days for chicken eggs to hatch, which, when you think about it, is a really cool thing. For days, chickens lay their eggs in a community nest until a broody hen decides that there are the correct amount of eggs in the nest and that she is ready. Some of these eggs may have been sitting in the nest for a week or more, but once a hen begins to set, in exactly 21 days all the eggs that are fertile will hatch, and a day or so later she and her brood will leave the nest. (Of course, this story has a different ending and will not give credence to my chicken facts)
So here I was, afraid that not only had Chickie Mama ruined the chance of  these eggs hatching, but that now she was going to waste another nest full of eggs. She obviously hadn't honed her "setting" skills.
And then I saw THIS...

Ah, back on her rightful nest and "hunkerin' down". I was relieved. It shouldn't be long until her eggs begin to hatch.  Wait. WHAT'S THIS??...

NOW it all makes sense. There are TWO chickens: Chickie Mama and Auntie.

One morning, not long after, while Chickie Mama was out feeding, I spotted a yellow peep in the nest. Now, typically, a hen will sit eggs in a hidden location and then appear with her hatched brood of chicks. Chickie Mama, on the other hand, had chosen the center of commotion to sit eggs, and throughout the 21 days, when she left the nest for short periods of time, other hens had come and laid their eggs in her nest. I believe this is what fouled her incubation rate. Within two days, two more chicks hatched, and yesterday, Chickie Mama left the nest with her three babies and began showing them the ways of the world.
Auntie has decided that she would rather be outside helping than sitting so she is the self appointed guardian of the flock.

The two hens will scratch the dirt almost continuously and cluck to their chicks to show them how to hunt for bugs and grain.
They will return periodically to their nests with the babies to rest.
Except... Who the Heck is THIS??

One Thing After Another - Continued

I'm having Blogger Block. Actually, everything block. You see, I've misplaced a memory card and I'm flipping out trying to find it! I took my camera to be cleaned and made a point of taking out the memory card before I left the house but now I can't find it anywhere. I've cleaned counters, mopped floors, dumped and cleaned out my purse and camera bags, checked in nooks and crannies and my dear husband even sifted through the nasty trash bag that I had him retrieve from the dumpster - poor thing, of course it was the day I chose to clean out the fridge. My memory card is my mind. Seriously. I can't remember a thing without it!  If not for photos I'd have no memory. I can't tell you how many times I've thought, "What did I do yesterday?" and then looked through my pictures to remember.  But this specific card had Blog posts! Fun, exciting, colorful blog pictures, and I'm having a hard time moving on.

But here goes. Where was I? Oh, yes, I was continuing THIS story...

We have guineas

They are an African bird that nest on the ground but roost in the trees. They eat seeds and insects - acclaimed of late as efficient tick control. They travel in groups looking somewhat like a school of fish as they wander about, and they are VERY noisy!! Some say that they are watchdogs that sound the alarm at any sign of danger. I say they just randomly make noise all the time! LOUD noise! One makes a "CHUCK-CHUCK, CHUCK-CHUCK" sound, and the other an "EH- EH -EH -EH- EH- EH", and when they all start screaming at once it can be almost deafening!

This is what I heard the other day around noon. Generally they quiet down pretty quickly, but this uproar continued until I went out to investigate. From the porch I looked out across the wooded yard to where the flock of guineas were and caught a movement with my eyes. It was a raccoon, about 40 feet away heading towards me. If you haven't had a chance yet, read THIS!  Thankfully it stopped, looked hard at me, turned and headed off  to what we refer to as "Home Depot" - an area on our farm where we store all sorts of used building materials: pvc piping, lumber, window units, wire, bricks, culvert pipe, toilets, fencing and parts and pieces of various assorted junk that we might use for something some day.  My husband worked as a home remodeler for years and kept anything that might one day come in handy on a homestead.

  Guineas lay eggs in a community nest. All the hens will lay in one nest until there are between 20 and 30 eggs at which time one of the hens will sit the eggs for the next 28 days. I had recently come across a nest with 16 eggs out in "Home Depot" that I had been watching. I hadn't quite decided whether I'd take the eggs and incubate them or let the hen hatch her own eggs. I knew it would only be a matter of days until there were enough for her to begin sitting so I wanted to know the start date for incubation were I to allow her to set. I've found that the hatching rate is better if she does the sitting, but there are risks in allowing her to incubate her own eggs as well.  For one thing, our three Rottweillers are curious and will nose her off her nest. There are also foxes and coyotes in our area. I once watched a guinea nest for the entire incubation period. Two days before the eggs were due to hatch I went out to find feathers everywhere and the eggs destroyed. You see, when eggs begin to hatch, the chick inside begins to peep. They call to one another encouraging each other to keep pecking their way out. I believe that this peeping alerted a predator who then came and killed the hen and ate the eggs. Another nest we watched had commotion at the site one day and when we went to investigate we found a snake hocking down one egg after another - no hen in sight. So there are disadvantages to having a guinea hen on the ground for 3 weeks sitting her eggs. Another consideration is that guineas make terrible mothers! They have no maternal instinct and will walk off and leave their babies in the woods, a literal candy store for hawks. We've had guineas for years and we've never had a keet raised to adulthood with a flock. If we allow the mother to hatch a clutch naturally, we time it so as to gather and raise the chicks immediately after they hatch.

I became concerned that the raccoon might mess with my guinea nest so I decided that I would go gather the eggs before they were eaten or destroyed and incubate them myself.  Having spotted a raccoon outside during daylight hours I have to wonder... Will this need to be part of my dress code as I go about my daily chores now?

In the infamous words of Roseann Roseannadanna, "Well, Jane, it  just goes to show you, it's always something! If it's not one thing, it's another!"

Rabies

Rabies, from the Latin word meaning "madness", is a viral disease transmitted from animals to humans that travels to the brain and then through the central nervous system. It is primarily caused by bites or scratches from an infected animal - the saliva is transmitted through a break in the skin or mucous membranes such as eyes, nose and mouth.
  In the U.S. raccoons are the most common animal infected with rabies, but skunks, bats, foxes and coyotes are also carriers. Bats are responsible for the transmission of almost all reported cases of rabies here in the United States. Worldwide, dogs cause the majority of cases of  rabies infection, but because of public awareness and widespread vaccinations, great strides are being made to control the disease.

Animals infected with rabies may appear sick, crazed or vicious, but they may also seem unusually tame and gentle. A nocturnal animal that is out wandering during daylight hours or a normally shy wild animal that acts strangely or confused with no fear of humans can be an indication of a rabid animal. You may notice an infected animal drooling, staggering or walking unsteadily. The only sure way to know if an animal is infected with rabies is to have it tested.

Once a person is infected with the rabies virus, symptoms may not occur for up to one year. These include: flu-like symptoms of fever, chills, aches, headache, pain, itching or numbness at the infection site, or anxiety which worsens as the disease progresses. Once the symptoms appear the disease is almost always fatal which is why it is so important, if exposed to the rabies virus, to get medical attention immediately.
Treatment includes a series of vaccinations - 5 doses over a period of 28 days.

In the summer of 2005 we were visiting our farm for the weekend. It was late on a Sunday afternoon and my husband had gone down to the creek while the kids and I were enjoying our last few hours at the farm before getting ready to head back into town. I heard Bob yell, "Marcy - get my gun!" It was just like the scene out of Old Yeller - "Travis! Get the gun!" and I assumed that he had seen another snake (we had had an encounter with a large Diamondback Rattlesnake recently) so I mosied around in no hurry looking for his gun. When I found it I walked down the ravine to where he was at the creek, and there, in the V of a tree trunk, just across the creek about 30 feet away was a raccoon. Let me begin by saying that I LOVE raccoons! They are one of my most favorite animals, and after reading Rascal as a young child I have always dreamed of having my own pet raccoon. But I took one look at the state of this animal and vehemently said, "Shoot it!" This raccoon was spread eagle in the trunk of the tree, crazed, snarling and absolutely demonic looking. So unlike a normal, cute,  little raccoon that I would otherwise fawn over.
   Bob shot twice and it was over. He said that he had been down at the creek and this animal had come up from downstream and had charged him. He turned to leave and realized that the unusual behavior - aggression, charging and being out during daylight was indicative of a rabid animal and he couldn't just leave it there. So he kept his distance and called for his gun. The raccoon charged him several more times but then crossed the creek and began chewing plastic on the ground before settling in the tree.
   After putting it down, Bob went across the small creek, picked up the raccoon by the leg and carried it up the hill. We decided that we would drop it off at the fire-station on the way in to town: surely they would know what to do with it, but found that they were unwilling to take it. We were told that we should take it into town and call Animal Control. Of course, by this time all offices were closed.
   The next morning Bob went to work and I was left with the raccoon detail, which had been placed in a garbage bag by the trash.  I spoke with an animal control representative and explained the situation and he told me that they would not be able to test the animal for the rabies virus. He said that they had already exceeded their limit for rabies testing for the year (it was only June!) and could no longer submit potential specimens for testing. He said that most likely the raccoon was rabid and that I should dig a very deep hole to bury it in right away. So deep that another animal would not dig it up.
Ha, I thought, I'm not gonna do that! It was June in Florida - very hot, humid and I was just not going to go outside and dig to China. Sorry to say, I planned to throw this thing into the dumpster. Just as we finished our conversation, almost as an afterthought, the Animal Control agent asked, "Did anyone touch this animal with their hands?"
""Yes," I replied, "my husband carried it to the truck."
His immediate response was, "I'll be right over!"
Without thinking I told my young son to go get the garbage bag out of the trash and set it in the shade by the house.
   When the agent got there I was horrified to see that the bag holding the dead raccoon was ripped and torn - not the strong, sturdy bag I imagined it had been put into.
To make a long story shorter, the raccoon was taken, tested and proved positive for the rabies virus. Because my husband had touched it and as a home re-modeler he continuously has cuts and abrasions on his hands, allowing for the potential transfer of saliva, it was insisted that he be treated for rabies. And then, also, because I had involved my son in the transfer of the infected animal and there was no way to be positive that he was not scratched in the moving, my boy also had to have the series of shots.

 They were administered by the Health department from Florida to New Jersey where we traveled for a family reunion during the 28 day treatment period.


  Four months later we were exposed to raccoons once again - baby raccoons, and ironically, this time one was offered to me to keep as a pet. Not because of the rabies, but more to common sense than heart-longing, I declined. I knew I could never keep a raccoon caged and if not keep in a cage it would undoubtedly completely destroy my house - specifically my many boxes of photographs and scrapbook materials.  But oh, I'll bet the Health Department would have a fit if they saw these pictures!

Rabies is much more common than you might think. It is found in both wild and domestic animals not confined to the country, but also prevalent in the suburbs and in cities. In our county in NW Florida there have been many confirmed cases of rabies in the past year. So much so that I recently updated our dogs' vaccinations. When administered by a veterinarian, they can be good for up to three years.

One Thing After Another

Is it me?  Do I just naturally encourage excitement and adventure in life?  Is it because the dogs just had their rabies shots?  Or because in my last post I said that I couldn't wait to see what the day would hold?  Maybe I shouldn't joke about never having had a "dull moment". Today was no exception.

When I went out to bottle feed the babies this morning (I do that first thing because they've gone all night without eating) I had a sense that something was not quite right - you know, that confused feeling that you just can't put your finger on - before your brain kicks in and your eyes focus? I blame it on not even having finished my first cup of coffee.
I saw THIS

and wondered, "What's she doing in here?"  Then I began to look around and noticed that other goats were not where they belonged. Specifically, the mama goats were in the "nursery" with their babies. Now, how did they get in here? I was still a little confused, and started to mentally blame my son for having left the gate to the adjoining pens open, but then it occurred to me...

THE MOMS HAD STAGED A BREAK-IN!  Blossom had flipped the latch on the gate, pulled the gate in towards her and they all squeezed through to be with their babies!

Each night I separate the nursing kids from their mamas. In the morning I milk the nannies and then open the dividing gate to let the tide rush in. It's my favorite part of my morning routine. As I walk towards the gate the moms walk with me calling for their children, and the babies, on the other side of the fence, stop their frolicking and race for the gate. Once it opens there's a mad dash to find the correct mama and eat breakfast!

 These pictures don't do justice to the fun, feeding frenzy that takes place - you'll just have to come in the morning and see for yourself!

Needless to say it took a little while to get everyone sorted out and back where they belonged, and I was shocked when I began to milk to see how much those little babies had eaten overnight! They must have gorged themselves! I was at least a gallon shy when I finished!

Remember this?

I mentioned this handy little device in THIS article. I use it to keep the goats out of the milking stall - I don't know why I hadn't thought to use it on the adjoining gate. Probably because they had never opened it before!

So here I was, already frustrated, and I decided to run and do something quickly while one of the goats finished up her grain. When I returned I found my milking bucket upside down, on the ground in the dirt. Oi Vey! Thankfully I had already poured the milk, but I did have to go back to the house and clean everything again.  By the time I returned to finish milking the last few does I found that they had tired of waiting and had wandered out into the field to the roll of hay. Usually they all wait around until the last goat is milked before heading out to graze.  About now I've had it and have decided that the title of this blog post will be, "SELL THE GOATS! SELL THEM ALL!"
I did finally finish milking - around 11, brought everything into the house, strained, bottled and chilled two gallons of milk. Lately I've been getting about three gallons each morning - one I make into cheese, one into four quart bottles of fresh, delicious milk that we bring to town to sell, and the third I set aside for the babies' afternoon feeding.

It was only a matter of minutes later that I heard a huge commotion outside and walked out onto the porch to investigate...

TO BE CONTINUED....

Bringing Tilapia Home

After setting up our first set of "tilapia pools" which we now call every soft sided, inflatable, ringed pool we see, it was time to go get some fish.
 This fish endeavor was all new to us, so we took the recommendation of the representative in the Florida Dept of  Aquaculture and contacted a fish farmer in Micanopy, Florida which is about 4 hours from here. Supposedly this was the closest grower and he was terminating the tilapia side of his aquaculture business and had some fish to get rid of. One of the stipulations of being licensed and raising tilapia is that you must hold a business license and you must sell the fish commercially.

  My husband and two sons and I made the drive to Micanopy on a bright sunny day - that is, until we arrived - then it began to rain. We were taken to his ponds where he began to throw fish food to entice the tilapia to come close enough so that Bob could throw a cast net over them. Tilapia are not a sport fish. They are a fresh water cichlid - like an oscar in a fish aquarium - they don't take a hook so they can only be caught with a net.
The owner showed us how to sex the fish by looking at their vent, but he was not very convincing as to the exactness of this method.

This is what Blue Tilapia look like - these are very small fish - about 2/3 pound. Typically we grow them to about 4 or 5 pounds.

It didn't take long before we had 50 or so fish in 5 gallon buckets which we then transported to the back of the pickup where Bob had 30 gallon drums of water waiting with an intricate aeration system hooked up.

 We laugh about this now; back then we were afraid the fish would stress without oxygen for the 4 hour car ride back. Now we know that they are a tough fish and can literally gasp air from the surface if their tank lacks oxygen.
  On the drive back home we had to stop at the agricultural inspection station at the Suwannee River. We had all our paperwork and certification ready, thinking that we would be inspected, but the officer just looked at the card and waved us through because there is no restriction on tilapia at the Suwannee River - not until you travel further west to the St Marks River are they controlled.

 By the time we reached the farm it was dark and late. We had no outdoor lights except one security light on a power pole, and by that lamplight we began to sort the fish. We were specifically looking for several male fish to put into an aquarium in the house - male tilapia incubate fish eggs in their mouth and we wanted a few hundred new hatchlings to try an experiment we read about to sex all the babies into males by feeding them a percentage of testosterone in their first 30 days of feed. New hatchlings are neither male nor female. Many factors in the environment determine the percentage of males to females. The males grow more quickly and become a better food product in less time. The technique is to regulate the new hatchlings to all become male. So there we were, extremely tired, peering into fish mouths in the dark searching for eggs.

Several of the males with eggs went into the aquarium in the house while the rest of the fish were carried and released into the swimming pools.
 Unfortunately, the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. 
Some lived, some died, but eventually they all ended up in the outside swimming pools - males and females.
Thus began our tilapia experience.