Post Gordon ~ Thoughts, Commentary & Reflections

Chickens Take Over

Lately chickens have invaded the front porch and continue to do so. My dogs used to have the porch as their exclusive turf, don't know what to do about it. They're almost helpless. So when chickens are around, there's usually one on the dog chair and one inside their shelter, which is a lawn chair cushion underneath a piece of plywood and a table stretched over some straw bales.

The chickens have been working on the far side of the straw bales. Taking them apart, straw by straw. Last night I put down a new dog blanket in front of the chair and dog shelter and Tika (English black lab) took right to it. So I expect that's what happened tonight--Tika had to choose, occupy the shelter and let the hen have the dog blanket or occupy the dog blanket and let the hen have the shelter while Freddy staked out the chair.

After I closed up the coop, I counted my chickens as usual. Kept coming up with 8. Should be 9. Opened up the back side tarp where the door will go. Nope. 8. Should be 9. Got a light, started walking the run, no chicken. Must be back on the porch some where.

Funny that the dogs did not want to tell on her. She pooped on the lawn cushion. Ugh!! She looked settled in for the night. With 2 dogs for company.

Back to the coop with her, I went.

 

In a New Groove

My routine, if you can call it that, at the Spencer Y has changed. I've left the pool; good timing, too, since I lost the email war with the Director over folks who don't shower after the sauna, jump right into the pool. Go back in the sauna and do it again. Ugh!!

Up on the track the problem was it took 15 minutes to get my pulse down to 70 beats per minute (bpm) after 15 minutes on the track. Well, recovery is what I'm working on, recovery from running my bpm's up and how long it takes for my heart/body to relax and return to 70 bpm or less.

I've always been secretly snide about folks who exercise a bit and then rest. It's been my practice to keep on going once started. When I stop, I stop. Workout's over. Well, that was then. It took 15 minutes the other day to get back down to 70. Came down to 90 really fast, but 90 to 70 bpm's was a slow, slow boat. That would kill half my time at the gym!!

Then I figured out that 10 minutes around the track and my bpm's return to 70 within a minute or two. Cool!! I can work with that!! So today I did 10 minutes, rested for 5 and my bpm's were down to 70 in less than 2 minutes. Did another 10 and this time pushed for all ten. Bpm's still came back down within 2 minutes during my 5 minute rest.

Took an easier pace on the 3rd 10, but this time it took almost 10 minutes to stay at 70 or below. Came right down in 2 minutes, but then I musta (well, I know I did) think about something that bothers me and bpm's jumped up to 80, came down slowly, went back up to 78, came down slowly. In fact, it took a full 10 minutes to get down to 69-70-71 and stay there.

Then I did 10 more minutes around the track and called time out for the morning. That's 40 minutes on the track and 20 resting. I can extend that.

That's my new groove. 10 minutes on the track, sometimes easy, sometimes pushing. 5 minutes rest until a steady, even 70 bpm or below. Can work with that, play with it. Alternate with treadmill. Build from there.

Watch the recoveries...

 

Rained All Day...

For two days and two nights now, I'm letting a sick Golden Comet hang out in the dog shelter. When I brought her back to the coop the other night, she didn't get up on a roost. Instead, she stood all night in front of the heat lamp, facing it. Pretty unusual behavior--never seen it before. So when she took up the dog shelter again the next day, I let her be. The dogs did the same, too.

She's one of the first three birds I bought and have had them over a year now. Sex-link hybrids like these (dad probably a New Hampshire Red and mom a White Plymouth Rock) do not live an especially long life. They lay about 300 large, brown eggs a year beginning at about six months and lay for 2-3 years until they wear out. Since they were about 1-1/2 years-old when I got them, they've pretty much passed their egg-laying, although I've had a couple Comet eggs in the last few days.

She hangs out in the dog shelter, and the dogs hang out just outside of it. Her appetite seems okay, pullet pellets, sunflower seeds and scrambled egg earlier today. Just brought her some more scrambled egg and oatmeal and she went right at it. The fact that she has a good appetite perhaps means that she could get through this. We'll see.

For water, the dogs have an automatic watering pan with a ballcock like you find behind a toilet. When the temp is sufficiently above freezing a potable water hose brings fresh water over, otherwise I dump heated water to melt the ice that forms.

The hen helps herself, not minding the dogs while she sups. For sure, the roosters don't bother her in the shelter. The dominant one's voice 'uh-rhoo-a-rhoo-arhoo' has gained volume and intensity every day. And he's no longer shy about it. He stood out on the porch this afternoon and blew his horn like a jazz man on a solo. But he did not mess with her.

Mainly he bangs away on the two (Rhode Island) Reds that laid the eggs he and the other 3 youngsters hatched out of, and it's pretty rough but fairly brief. He'll run one of them down, grab her by the back of her neck and go at her. The Comets are too dominant so far. He and the other 3 youngsters are Buckeyes, a breed developed in neighboring Ohio, of course.

About this time a lot of folks would consider to 'put them in the freezer', something I'm not in any hurry to start on. For sure, before I even consider it, I'll want to be sure I can do a good job cooking up a chicken, more than just throwing it in the crockpot with potatoes, celery and onions, which is what I normally do. But I suppose there will come a time to cull...

 

Email to 'Call Tony'...

Now, who's Tony, I wondered. The email was from the recruiting office of an outfit that has about 20 trucks (about the same number as Yard Boss) in Bloomington (Indiana), difference being that these are all fairly new and Yard Boss's trucks are older, despite that they bought 57 new tractors this year.

We didn't get any of them. Yard Boss doesn't want 'em.

The subject line of the email said to call Tony for an interview and the body consisted of a phone number with a 419 area code. 419? Where the Sam Puck is that? Well, it's Ohio. Tony and I laughed that Tammy had probably slipped a gear. How often do I get out to McComb? Well, pretty much never...

When I reached the Bloomington TM (Terminal Manager), he wanted me to road test with Frank. "Are these 10-speeds," I asked. Came the response that all their trucks are automatics, save for one Pete. Really!? Never drove an automatic... tractor!

Well, they're automatics, Macks, and all-Mack, in fact, except for that Pete and it's going bye-bye. PeopleNet. Super-singles. "How do you like these super-singles in the snow," I asked. 'Don't', came Frank's quick reply. A straight-shooter. The automatic wasn't at all unpleasant.

Different. Not unpleasant.

 

Feather-coated House Guest

I brought the sick hen in last night so the cold would be one less thing to stress her. Then this afternoon had her outside inside the fence that surrounds the back deck. Gave her a chance to forage for a while, which she did, with no others around to bother. Later when I checked on her, she was part way up the ramp and parked there, so brought her in.

Warm baths--yeah, I could hardly believe it--are recommended at good chicken sites, so that was our next stop for 30 minutes, with me holding her tail gently down so her butt got a good soak. The next step is supposed to be olive oil inside her vent--chickens have just one outlet, called a 'vent'--but I figure that's above my pay grade just yet.

Her eyes are clear--a good thing--but she has penguin-posture, which is often described online as the chicken waddling rather than walking and scratching as usual. That fits. She didn't do any scratching outside, very unusual for a chicken, and just nibbled on greens. Okay, fine.

She's in the tub/shower with the shower curtain drawn; has pushed herself up against the side and she can hang out there until she dries some. Could spend the night there, for that matter.

The two bigger roosters--both are blowing their horns now--fought repeatedly this afternoon. Broke them up 3x, then hit them with the hose. Just like fighting dogs, the hose works best. Likely this problem will continue as the 'younger' rooster challenges his big brother with the stronger, louder 'arhoo'--funny, the Buckeye hen seems to prefer that one, the middle brother.

The youngest doesn't seem to be in the fight--yet.

Again, 3 eggs today and none looks like a Comet egg, which is larger. What's going on? The youngsters, the Buckeyes, hatched around August 7, about 16 weeks ago. I suppose it's possible the young hen has started to lay. Possible. Haven't seen her in the nesting box yet.

It's an egg-mystery for now...

 

Due Diligence...

Yard Boss called today, wanted to know if I were quitting, whether I'd gotten my DOT medical, yada yada. I haven't been taking his calls, but he called on a different number I didn't recognize. Earlier Tammy had called, asked if they could contact my employers. Well, sure. Apparently their online software has a glitch or two, since I'd specifically indicated they could and gave them Yard Boss's cell as well as corporate. She didn't have to ask for it again.

It's right there.

Hadn't talked to Yard Boss since I stopped taking his calls in mid-September.

Just for GP (general purposes), I called Ollie at the Haz outfit to find out what they showed as my time there. Was a little surprised when he checked and came back with May-October. True as far as it goes. My last run was in October--Indy>Philly>Rochester>Philly>West Ohio>Philly>Indy.

Was supposed to be part-time 2-3 days out max... "Vic, you can work whenever you want!!" Oh, yeah.

That last run was 5-6 days out (don't really remember, exactly). Wasn't happy about it. I was apparently still one of their drivers when Yard Boss did his due diligence with them last March.

They sent me out for a random last December. I was happy NOT to have the winter runs and got a lot done on the property, like now. Well, until Spring when my money started to run out. Then I went in to see what work they had and they said they'd have something for me the next week. But then I took the first Prairie du Chien for Yard Boss. Alerted the Haz outfit with an email and got a nice note back. But haven't been back since.

And apparently I was only there until October of last year...

Really. October???

It's pretty hard to move backwards. They can no longer 'sell you' on pie in the sky that might as well be a cloud floating by or someone's stinky, windy rear-discharge. Told Yard Boss these folks haven't hired me yet, just that they sound like they want to, Mondays and/or Tuesdays and not all Mondays/Tuesdays. Non-smoking policy. Oldest trucks about 2-years-old.

Hope springs eternal, doesn't it? You always pick out a gal WITHOUT the particular issue your last gal had thinking... yeah, wishfully thinking.

Well, I already know the non-smoking policy is not so well-enforced. Took me out for my road test in a tractor that clearly has never been smoked in. Yuppo, bait and... Yard Boss was emphatic that the new outfit wouldn't do any better by me than he did and he may be right. Dunno. Said he has not been running the Prairie and our Illinois unit has been hit or miss; that the customer still wanted us to run the Prairie but he'd told them to farm it off on someone else for now... Doesn't even know who has run it.

Maybe explains why the old truck has been sitting up there and hasn't moved.

Or does it??

 

Life or Egg-bound Death

Going on the third night for the Comet here inside rather than out in the coop and she's hanging on but in more pain and distress all the time. I can feel, I think, two large, Comet eggs. We do warm, Epsom Salt baths and then she gets mineral oil up her vent--her all-purpose touche. They pee, defecate and lay eggs down the same tube and manage to lay nice, clean eggs.

Big eggs, too. A flat miracle.

She's eating maybe a little lettuce and that's about it. Has turned down scrambled egg, oatmeal, seeds, pullet pellets--all the usuals that chickens are crazy for. Of course, she's in pain.

About all that can be done is wait it out. Yeah, you can reach in with something and break the end of the egg. Maybe draw the insides out with a straw or something. Dunno. Not going there. Chances are she'd get cut inside and die of infection anyway. No, I think wait it out. Or cull her.

This morning saw that Tammy called, so called her number and got--David, her boss, the VP of Recruiting and something else. "So you're the big honcho, eh?"

'Yes, I am', came his friendly, deep, Kentucky-accented reply. Turns out he knows about egg-bound hens. Grew up with them and plans to retire to farm a large property he has down in Kentucky.

Right up the road from Dan'l Boone, I'm sure. Tammy has chickens, too. Has never had an egg-bound hen, though.

 

Third Night Egg Drama

About half past midnight, got up and reviewed how to butcher a single chicken. Got a PM from a member that reminded me about calcium. Gee, I've got all sorts of egg shells in the refrig and it's been a while since I've chopped any up and put out for the girls. Might've avoided this problem, hardens the egg shells and provides hen with needed nutrients that move the egg down her tube.

With all the stress this hen's been through she's probably not much more than dog food or chicken feed (yeah, they like chicken liver, for example) and there's not much meat on her bones. One big sideways egg for sure and another (probably) behind it. Ah, in her behind. Holding in place.

Yesterday afternoon I did chop some egg shell up and put some out and even got Egg Drama Queen to gobble down a little. But she quickly stopped. So here I am early this morning using a large knife to grind shells into just a little larger than a powder. Added mineral oil and olive oil.

She was asleep. Thought better to let her be.

After I heard her thrashing around this morning, got her warm bath set up about 6 am. Added Epsom Salts and once she seemed some better relaxed, brought over a syringe with about a teaspoon of olive oil and suspended egg shell/calcium. Forced her beak open and squirted it in. She did the chicken equivalent of chewing and did not fight. Repeated it.

Since a teaspoon of olive oil has about a hundred calories, maybe we're on to something. Repeated. Then she drank a little and ate a piece of lettuce. Hey, she even perked up some. In fact, for her entire bath, which went on for about 30 minutes, she had more water, more lettuce. Maybe we've bought her (and me) a little time. Appears so.

After her bath, brought her over, towel dried her and laid her down on her side on a counter. Began putting mineral oil up her vent from the plastic syringe. Yeah, I'm getting okay with it. Adapting as quickly as I can but I'm slow on the uptake. She's still alive and there's still hope. The one egg is not far up her vent, far enough, though, I don't know which end is up. Don't know which way to push but can gently massage the area side-to-side. Then set up her nesting box in her dog crate and put her there.

And wait. Apparently she needs these Epsom baths hourly.

Okay, fine.