Sun and Wind Farm

Four little chicklets get ready for their mission

When last we checked on the chickens, there weren’t too many left. Actually just one. The other three had gone off to the Great Hutch in the Sky. We suspect they took a direct route, thanks to a lurking hawk that had established residence out back. This left only the indomitable Herman, the lead female who continued on solo through the winter.

She kept busy catching rides on the backs of sheep, pecking at imaginary bugs and stealing dog snacks whenever the two Great Pyrs — her bunk mates in the shed — turned their backs for a second.

We’re happy to report that reinforcements have arrived: four small but sturdy Rhode Island Red chicks, fresh out of their eggs and ready to serve on Team Herman, Chicken Commandos.

Sequestered in the greenhouse until they get a bit bigger and stronger, these four little Her girls -– named Hermione, Her Majesty, Hermes and Hermit Crab -– spend their days practicing short-order drills, improving their perching skills on the bottom rung of a sawhorse and attempting to fly by hopping an inch off the ground and flapping their wings. During this period of training, their constant companion is the red bulb in the desk lamp that glows reassuringly over them as they sleep. In a few more weeks we’ll move them out to the run-in shed for their debut … unless Herman eats them first.

Herman casts a long shadow in the barnyard

When we received our day-old chicks in early October, we had fantasies of our four little Rhode Island Reds growing up to be loyal friends and great layers. By night, they would be secure in their chicken tractor and by day they would peacefully explore the nearby pasture with the sheep. We dreamed they would eat out of our hands, enjoy being held and fussed over, and beam at us with appreciation when we came to feed them and care for them.

There was just one thing, though. We were afraid to name them. What if they were too fragile? What if a hawk swooped down and scooped them up, one by one? What if they fell prey to the coyotes or even the huge heron who fishes at our pond every morning?

Enter Herman.

Herman is a big girl. Even though she’s a Rhode Island Red, she’s the kind of young lady who might play goalie in college field hockey, or perhaps be the pioneering female candidate for the high school football team.

Her sisters are more demure. They cluck contently while on their daily exploratory chores. But Herman clucks in a deep and masculine manner more evocative of the noises one might hear in a haunted house than a chicken coop.

Herman has recently taken to leading her more ladylike charges on hunts for new food sources. Refusing to stay in the nice big run-in shed, Herman has shown the other girls how to slip through the woven wire fence and enter the forbidden World of Sheep. In that strange and exotic world, the hens are exploring the wonders of alfalfa pellets and all the intriguing seeds and small grains nestled in the hay that we throw down for the sheep.

On the other side of the shed is the yummy compost heap. Herman has introduced her girls to orange peels, peanut shells and coffee grounds. Chicken feed is simply not that interesting once one has pecked at a cornucopia of composting comestibles.

Today Herman caught her first mouse. Granted, he was a small mouse and she only found him when our ram Firefly butted the chicken tractor in the hopes of finding uneaten chicken crumbles. Firefly butted and a tiny mouse ran out! Herman didn’t falter (although Firefly backed away). Herman grabbed the mouse and ran around the shed like an Olympian torch-bearer, head high. She jumped with joy as she ran, clucking loudly (and deeply) as she circled the shed.

We have heard that when there is no rooster around to keep the girls in line, one of the hens will inevitably assert herself in the same role. There has been no sign of this behavior yet. Herman is just showing her girls how to be all the hens they can be.

Some chicken.

When last we checked in on the chicks, they were little fluff balls, spending their early days pecking and eating, pecking and eating inside the comfy cocoon of the greenhouse. In just a few weeks, they’ve filled out nicely. What’s more, they’re displaying extraordinary vigor in their every act. They move together in unison, with the urgency and precision of a military patrol, to the point where we’re calling them our “chicken commandos.” 

But now it was time to nudge them from the security of the greenhouse and into the portable chicken coop that will be their home. We backed the coop to the greenhouse door, slid open the hatch and waited. With characteristic pluck and an alarming lack of caution, the commandos marched right in. Immediately, they realized the wisdom of their collective decision. Real grass. Real bugs. A real 70-degree breeze. It’s good to be a chicken.

No sign of natural predators yet, though Freckles, the Great Pyrenees pup, needed a few reprimands when she swiped at the coop with her large white paw. The cats were all inside the house, by design. There is no doubt in our minds that given half a chance, cute kitties will transform into chicken-munching carnivores in seconds.

By mid-afternoon, after six hours of scratching at the ground, catching bugs and sitting proudly atop their roost, four tired Rhode Island Red chicks filed happily into the greenhouse for the evening. We’re expecting some long-overdue rain in the morning, but no doubt on Tuesday they’ll be back out in the coop, practicing maneuvers.

Four newcomers to the Sun and Wind Farm

Head’s up, sheep! There are some new kids in town and they threaten to soak up a lot of loving attention that would otherwise have gone to the Woolly Contingent.

The chicks are Rhode Island Reds, which are regarded as utility birds that can be raised for meat or eggs. We’ll stick with the eggs, if you please.

Another characteristic that will stand them in good stead with us amateurs is their hardiness. They are tough and resistant to illnesses.

For the next few weeks, they’ll camp out in the greenhouse, in a bin that we set up for them. When they’re ready, they’ll move into the fancy chicken condo we wrote about earlier this week.

Putting the coop together

It’s October here at Sun and Wind Farm and the weather could not be more perfect. Day after day of cloudless, 80-degree afternoons and cool peaceful nights. Attention is turning to new arrivals expected next week — five baby chicks! Conrad Hilton never prepared for guests the way we are getting ready for these babes.

There is the bin in which they will stay when they first arrive. There is the heating lamp to keep them warm. There are shavings at the ready. There is the official chick food dispenser. And the equally official water dispenser. And most of all, there is the coop, that will ultimately be their home. It arrived in two boxes and we had our doubts at first. It was billed as a mobile chicken coop, but there was nothing mobile about the two weighty packages that FedEx dropped off in the driveway.

But after a few hours of aligning Slot A to Tab B on Saturday, and a few more hours of staining the coop today (Barnyard Red), we’re cottoning to their new home.  There are the nest boxes and the roost. There is an enclosed area sheltered from the wind. There is a screened-in area well suited for enjoying some fresh air. And best of all, there are the wheels. We can easily move the coop around in the pasture, so as to spread the fertilizing joy that is chicken manure.

We’ll apply a second coat of stain later this week. When the chicks arrive, we’ll install them in a bin we’ve set up in the greenhouse just for them. When they’re large enough, they’ll get upgraded to the Coop deVille just awaiting their arrival.

Almost complete