If I Were A Chicken

At 2am I realized I hadn't checked the chicken coop.  We've been forgetting to close it up after twilight lately and we're down two birds. :-(  We lost an Australorp to a noisy attack a few weeks ago.  By the time I ran downstairs, threw on shoes and grabbed a broom, all that was left was a trail of feathers and a flock of traumatized chickens.  Two weeks ago, Dave stepped out to go to the store one night and had three chickens greet him on the front porch.  After searching the flower bed with flashlights, all but one chicken was found and returned to the coop.  We waited a day to see if maybe she just took off hiding, but Kimosabe hasn't come home. :-(

So tonight I went out, flashlight in hand.  I closed the front gate of the coop.  I lifted the roof and did a head count.  Eleven.  :-/  We're supposed to have sixteen.  I counted again.  Still eleven.  I went to the other side.  It was less crowded and I thought maybe I'd get a better view underneath, just in case anyone is sitting on someone else's head.  No doormats.

Sometimes it's easier to figure out who we're missing and who we still have.  Sometimes, with this many birds, it's easiest to do that in categories.  Roos first: Tanner- check!  Attica - check!  Leroy - MIA.  Brown Leghorns:  Wasabi - check!  Martha Jones -check!  Araucanas:  Pippa - check!  Sunshine - MIA.  Stripey - check!  Golden Laced Wyandotte:  Goldie - check!  Silver Laced Wyandottes:  Fluffster: check!  Chica - MIA.  Brahma:  Lightning Blast - check!  Austrolorps:  Lolli - check!  Can't figure out which one you are #1 - check!  Can't figure out which one you are #2 - MIA.  Red Sexlink: Polly - MIA.

So I'm looking for Leroy, Polly, Sunshine, Chica, and an Austrolorp.  I'd love to tell you which one it is, but since they got feathers, I can't tell them apart.  Lolli has paler skin and more beetle green in her feathers than the other two.  As for which one is Twinkle?  I have NO idea!  I have to wait for Dayna to come home and tell me how to sort that one out.

Now, if *I* were a bird, where would I be if I wasn't sleeping in my bed?  Easy.  A tree.  There are a few problems with that idea.

One is that these chickens weigh about 5 pounds.  That's a bit of a load to lift off the ground.  Their wings work.  They flap up a storm when they want to.  They're especially skilled at propelling the bird across the yard at speeds you'd think would be aerodynamically impossible.  When you factor in the weight distribution of their bodies atop their skinny little legs and splayed toes, it's an amazing feat of physics that the avian doesn't topple over just standing still.  Now add to the equation a velocity approximately equal to a seven year old on a two-wheeler bicycle.  I'm telling you, it's a miracle of God that poultry is as agile as it's proven to be.  Some days I wonder if the wing flapping is for added speed or if it's more a function of balance, akin to a tightrope walker holding his arms out straight when on a high wire. 

Back to the point, their wings are not sufficient for long flights or high flights.  They are adept at jumping and flapping and coasting.  When Pippa was a baby, she imprinted on me.  She would get SO jealous when I would handle another chick that she would actually take off from across the room and fly onto my head to yell at me.  Now she mainly hops from the top of the run onto the roof of the coop, about 6 feet high.  I have seen Leroy jump/fly onto the door of Sheldon's stall at the barn.  If the stall door is open, he will then head up to the roof of the barn.  I have never witnessed a chicken jump over about four or five feet, or "fly" further than about five or six.  Maybe my chickens just don't.

Second problem is that our trees are mature.  They are all beautifully majestic.  In other words, TALL.  Their lowest branches are still pretty high.  With the height and distance of the bird's flight restricted, any of these trees would be impossible to roost in.  We have a few smaller, shorter trees, but I doubt their branches would be sturdy enough to hold a chicken comfortably without bowing.  Forget it if they wanted to roost together like they normally do.

That in mind, scratch the tree idea.

They like hanging out under the deck.  Bad place to sleep.  Only two sides have "exits" and it gets consistently narrower in height the further south you go, no room to jump over a predator.  They'd be an easy target to a predator with a good sense of smell.  Even if the predator made noise stalking through the dried leaves under there, the chickens would make easy prey.

They also like the flower border around the house.  This provides abundant cover for hiding and ample space to retreat and escape.  However, it also makes a poor roost since it is low on the ground, no high roosts, and easy targeting for a predator with keen scenting abilities.

I turned around looking at the yard.  Think.  Think.  I noticed the shed light was left on.  I walked a few steps to go turn it off.  No sense wasting electricity.  The door was also left cracked open.  Hmm, I wonder...

Sure enough, there on the shelves along the back of the shed were Polly, Leroy, Sunshine, an Australorp, and Chica :-)  Good place to pick.  Enclosed, high up, light on, only one way in and they were facing it.  Smart birds!

Alright, now to get them back into the coop!  Wyandotte first.  I pet Chica and scooped her up.  She flapped enough to cause a mini tornado!  Chica never was much of a cuddler.  Even as a chick, she was always a bit off in the corner and skittish.  I got her calm and walked out to the coop.  I raised the roof, showed her her flock mates and encouraged her to hop in.  She perched on my hand.  I moved her further in and told her to get down.  She refused.  I bounced my arm to encourage her some more. She unfurled her wings for balance and stayed put.  :-/

Okay.  Let's try the other side.  I walked her around the less crowded side of the coop.  I raised the roof and put my hand in.  She stayed put.  I tried putting her down.  It didn't work.  Somehow, she ended up on my head.  It is very awkward to be holding up a somewhat heavy piece of particle board roof with one hand, a flashlight in the other, and have a chicken on your head.  To make it worse, this is the part where a spider fell on me and I wigged.  Use your imagination. 

I walked over to the run opening.  I lifted the chicken off of my shoulder.  I TRIED placing her gently in the run.  She walked up my arm back onto my head.  :-/  Chica was NOT cooperating.  I blindly groped for the chicken, got hold, and successfully got a claw scraping underneath my glasses just under my left eye.  BRILLIANT!

After that escapade, somehow the bird ended up walking down my back.  I ended up bent forward at the waist, and the chicken was perched...hard to explain...kind of the top of my hip and butt at the same time, I was on a weird angle.  Needless to say it was awkward, and would probably have made a very humorous picture.  I don't quite remember how I managed to get out of that predicament.

The remaining four birds were not nearly as difficult.  I plopped all of them into the top of the run and let them figure out how to walk up the stairs into the coop by themselves.  I was kind enough to hold the flashlight for them and say Night-night!