A Sleepover for Minerva Louise

I named our Minerva Louise after the book "A Hat For Minerva Louise" by Janet Morgan Stoeke. For this posting I have a new story to share: "A Sleepover For Minerva Louise"...

I went out to the coop about 6:00 last night to check on the girls, to see if there were any late afternoon eggs to gather (there was) and to see if the temps were cold enough to turn on their heat lamp. (I generally only do this when the temperatures go below zero.) It was dark by then and the girls were already settled onto their roosts for the night. I was trying to feel their combs to see if they were warm or cold to help me make my decision about the lamp. When I felt Minerva Louise's comb it felt colder than I expected. And that's when I noticed that her coloring looked off. She's an all white hen, but in the dark I could kind of see some brown coloring? And then another hen made a move to peck at some of that brown coloring on her feathers. Something was weird here. So using the flashlight on my phone, I discovered that poor Minerva Louise was bleeding.

My injured Minerva. It was hard to tell where the blood was coming from exactly.
(FYI-The white circle is her ear, which is normally less obvious against her white feathers.)
By the way, random fact... usually you can tell what color eggs your hen will lay by the color of her ears:
White ear=white egg. Brown ear=brown egg.

The timing for this injury was not ideal, since the kids and I had just gotten home from activities and they were starving for dinner (which hadn't even been started yet!)  I quickly ran back inside, alerted the kids to grab an apple because dinner would have to wait a bit til I could get an idea as to what was wrong with Minerva Louise.

Luckily, when we first got these chicks, I had bought some products to have on hand just in case something like this were to happen. (Kind of created my own chicken first-aid kit.) Because really, the last thing you want to do when something goes wrong is to have to run to the pet supply store! I had also bought a pet carrier for the same reason. I knew that I had to remove Minerva from the flock because chickens are drawn to blood and will peck at other chickens who are bleeding, obviously making things worse.

Upon closer examination, I could tell that it was her comb that was bleeding. I'm not sure if another chicken pecked at her to cause it to bleed or if she caught her comb on something that scratched it. My gut tells me it was the latter. The location of the cut was on the bottom edge, kind of a hard place to peck at easily. Minerva Louise is kind of in the middle of the pecking order among my seven girls. She's not one of the bossy ones, and she's not someone who gets picked on usually. (However, if you remember my "Torn Beak" post, she's on her way to be earning the title as my accident-prone hen.) So this time, I'm going to assume it was an accidental self-inflicted wound.

I brought Minerva inside the house. Because of the really cold temperatures I didn't really have a choice. I knew that I needed to clean off all the blood before I could return her to the coop, so that meant that Minerva Louise needed... a bath. Yup. Believe it or not, chickens are actually not too opposed to baths. (They should never be bathed for no reason, they keep themselves "clean" just fine, but in cases such as this, a bath was our only option.)

She was such a good girl. I put a rag on the bottom of the sink, so she could stand without slipping, and with warm water and paper towels, we washed off all the blood on her feathers. I cleaned her comb wound with Vetericyn (which unfortunately made it bleed more) and then put some Pick-No-More Cover-Up Lotion on the wound. The Pick-No-More helps to stop the bleeding and actually turns the wound blue-ish (as opposed to red). Changing the wound color to blue helps prevent the other hens from noticing her wound and pecking at it more.

Minerva Louise was on her best behavior. I'm sure she was so confused as to where she was! Why was I inside the people coop? How did they make it rain warm water on me? What was that warm air machine?

Jessie was particularly fixated on the hen in the house.
She wouldn't take her eyes off of her.
Cooper was laid back about it.

Spish Splash I was takin' a bath!

I couldn't help but think that I had washed plenty of chicken in that same sink. 

But, um, it just wasn't still alive anymore. And then we ate it for dinner. 
Luckily, that wasn't the case this time! :)

She was so well behaved for me. She was very calm most of the time.
(Only tried to fly out of the sink once or twice!)
Then we started giving her lots of mealworms during the bath.
That definitely helped! 

Time to dry off

I was surprised that she was not really scared of the hairdryer!

All clean!
I think she kind of liked hanging out with us inside.
(Dogs were upstairs behind doors.)

Lots of rewards for her good behavior

Even after toweling off and the hairdryer treatment, she was still too damp to send out into the freezing temperatures in the coop last night. So Minerva Louise had a sleepover inside! Lucky girl! Unfortunately, our house doesn't have a garage or basement, so she got to spend the night in our living room. She was the perfect house guest. She settled in nicely and quietly. She even made herself a cute little nest towards the back of the pet carrier. (Unfortunately, that made some of her bedding spill out of the carrier. And she tipped over her water at some point during the night but that's okay. Easy clean up the next day.) Definitely a successful sleepover, considering it was for a chicken.

Cooper went down to check on Minerva Louise many times during the night.

The next morning I brought Minerva Louise back out to the coop to see if she could re-enter the coop without any drama from the other hens. Happy to say that it went off like a charm. She settled right back in with the gang. (No one picked on her.) 

And she actually laid her egg within 10 minutes of returning!

Here she is extra fluffed-up this morning to trap in the warm air around her body.

And I'm happy to report that when I checked in on her tonight, she looked good! 

No more bleeding and her comb was nice and warm! 

Sleep tight, ladies! 

(Yes, yes, Daffodil is still on the lower roost. Sigh.) 

But they are all safe and healthy and that's what matters most!

Brrr....

Snowbound!

Let me apologize. Remember a few weeks ago in my 'Blizzard of 2015' blog where I said that the blizzard was 'lovely' and I even gave it a 'two thumbs up'? Well, clearly Mother Nature misunderstood what I meant! She obviously thought that since I enjoyed that first little blizzard, that I would also love to have a blizzard every week since. Oops. My bad.

While I still do love winter and the snow is beautiful and all that, I would be just fine if Mother Nature took a few weeks off from snow and maybe even sent some warmer weather our way! I think almost 72 inches of snow is plenty for now. So sorry for the misunderstanding everyone! (It's probably up to 100 inches by now, I've just stopped paying attention at this point.)

And just to make it clear...I am NOT complaining about the snow. Truly, as long as our electricity stays on (it has) and our roof is not leaking (it's not) I refuse to complain about the snow. Yes, it makes driving more difficult (I risk my life every time I leave my driveway because I just can't see oncoming traffic over the snowbanks). It causes more snow days (*whispers* I actually love snow days as much as my kids do!). And it generally slow things down, but I kind of like it that way.

Here are a few pictures to give you an idea of how much snow we've gotten over the past month:

So pretty! I love winter.

Just beautiful!

Um, okay, thanks! That's plenty of snow. 

What I meant was you can stop the snowing now. Thanks.

Feeling a bit trapped.
It's very sad when all the firewood is buried under all the snow. :(
I think I should be able to take down the Christmas decorations sometime around Easter.

Now if you live/work in Boston and are dealing with ridiculous traffic/parking, no MBTA, etc. you guys have the right to complain all you want. But for me, we're getting through it out here in the 'burbs, and making some memories in the process. (I never thought I'd let my kids jump off the roof of our house, but hey, we have had 72 inches of snow, so it was practically up to the second floor anyway! So we all jumped. It was fun! And just for the record, it was before the Mayor asked everyone to stop doing it.)

Ryan mid-jump

Jonathan has taken the brunt of the snow removal job. He's logged over 10 hours on our little tractor trying to plow our very long driveway and paths to the barn. It has not been easy. Our tiny tractor plow would do great with say three inches of snow, but it wasn't designed to move two feet of fluffy snow. It's like digging in dry sand at the beach....He pushes it to the side and it just falls back onto the driveway. I think he's done a great job. We can get our cars out and that's what really matters. But God forbid we have an emergency...I'm pretty sure there's no way a firetruck or ambulance could get down our driveway. Eek. So we're just keeping our fingers crossed that we won't need them anytime soon. Hmmm, maybe we should stop jumping off the roof for fun, just to be sure.

He's also done an amazing job trying to keep our house from developing ice dams. So far, so good.

Be careful up there!

The kids and I have been having fun with all those snow days!

Making memories

Tunnels!

Even Cooper is enjoying the snow!

Below is a picture of our chicken coop roof. Yes, the snow literally reaches the roof! That's Cooper on the roof with Ben. Jessie preferred to stay on the "ground" which is actually atop at least 3 feet of snow!

Snow, snow, snow

This is just to give you perspective of this place without the snow.

The animals are doing fine with all the snow. The snow is literally over the dogs' heads, so they aren't venturing very far. Which is good since during the last blizzard, our electric dog fence started beeping which indicates that somewhere along our property there has been a break in the fence. (Maybe a tree fell along the property line? Too much snow to tell right now, but since most of the electric dog fence is above ground, it's very possible that it got damaged by a snow related problem.) We had to just turn it off to stop the beeping noise, so right now the electric fence isn't working. (Don't tell the dogs!) Like I said, we're so snowed in that there's not many places that the dogs could escape from right now. (Except the driveway...They could totally run down the driveway, no problem, but they haven't figured that out yet, so mum's the word!)

Dogs, don't you dare go over the snowbanks! Wait, did someone tell you about the broken fence?!

Cooper, I'm keeping my eye on you!

One downside to all this snow is that since the dogs are only going where we've shoveled paths, that is also where they are pooping. Yes, right where we're walking. So, our beautiful winter wonderland is slowly turning into a poop minefield. And Cooper continues to graffiti his yellow pee all over that pretty white snow. Sigh. I swear he has started signing names in the snow. Last week he wrote "Greg". This week it said "Wendy". I kid you not.

Is it just me or does that say Wendy?
Just me?
Okay, never mind.

Welcome to our home! Watch your step!
Gross.

The chickens are kind of snowed in themselves. Even though I've shoveled a small path for them to go outside into their run, they really aren't interested in venturing out of their coop much. Which is totally fine, but the problem is dealing with all their poop. Chickens poop a lot. So I've had extra duty cleaning up all the poop now accumulating inside the coop.

An interesting cold temperature discovery that I've made this winter is that chicken poop freezes! It becomes hard as a rock and freezes right onto the poop boards or floor. As long as I can give it a hard whack to chip it off the boards, it's actually easier to pick up frozen. I've also been sure to add lots of extra bedding to the poop boards which helps make it easier to remove. I must admit that I actually prefer picking up frozen poop to their regular mushy poop. (See, a bright side to the situation!)

Mounds of snow in their run.
They won't step outside unless I put down hay.

My biggest problem is that now that I have more poop to pick up, my poop bucket is filling up much faster than normal. Usually, I only need to dump it out about once a week, but lately, I need to dump it at least twice a week. Since I can't actually get to our usual poop dumping area because of the ridiculous amounts of snow, I've had to start a new temporary chicken poop dumping area. It had to be somewhere that I could walk to and somewhere that the dogs couldn't reach. The only place that fit those qualifications right now in this ridiculous arctic wasteland that we are living in was....along our driveway! Niiiice! Welcome to Glen Hill Farm! Here is our chicken poop! (Yuck, so embarrassing. Not an ideal situation.) Of course in the spring, I bet all the plants (and poison ivy) growing along our driveway will be thriving better than ever with this bonus fertilizer!

Welcome! Please ignore the 'fertilizer' on your right.

Sorry for all the poop talk, but sadly poop is a very big part of living on a farm!

These poor hens got startled, flew up and landed in the snow.
They were kinda stuck there, and so I did what any good mother would do:
I grabbed my camera and took a picture....
and THEN I rushed over to help them out.

The temperatures here have been dipping below zero. The chickens are doing great keeping themselves warm, but one especially cold morning I went out to collect eggs and found one egg that had totally frozen! The yolk and white had frozen solid, expanded and cracked open the shell. So now I need to be sure to go out to collect eggs much more often because it doesn't take very long for an egg to freeze in weather like this.

Frozen egg. :(

The cold temps don't seem to affect egg production. This week we collected the biggest egg we've ever seen! It was HUGE! (Poor chickie who laid it. It was either Daffodil or Reese.) And yes, it was a double yolk!

GINORMOUS green egg!

It was so big it couldn't fit in our egg holder

It was a double yolker! Woohoo!

Stay warm everyone! Spring is on its way!

A Whole Year of Cooper!

One year ago today this boy entered our lives out of the blue. It's strange how time works because on the one hand, it seems like yesterday, and on the other hand I can barely remember our home without him in it. Cooper. The only boy animal on our farm. This guy has captured our hearts like we never could have imagined.

For those of you not familiar with his story, here it is:

Last February 4th, Ryan looked out our window and said "Mom, there's a dog in our yard."  I went out to see who it might be, assuming it might be a neighbor's dog. But no, instead there was a dog I'd never seen before staring at me from a distance, with a very short chewed-through leash hanging from his collar. This dog looked a little intimidating. Was he a pitbull? A boxer? He also looked hungry, so hungry that I could see his ribs jutting out. I could see through his short fur that his face was bright red from the freezing cold, and then I remembered that there was several feet of snow forecasted for that night.

The first pictures I captured of that stray dog on our property last year...

I knew I had to try to find out where he lived so I could get him home before the snow started, and it was already starting to get dark. I took one step in his direction and he darted away so fast that I assumed I wasn't ever going to see him again. I went back inside, got back to cooking dinner, kind of forgetting about the dog, and a little while later when Jessie (our labradoodle) barked to go out, I let her out without a thought. A few minutes later, Ryan spoke up again, "Hey, that dog is back and he's hanging out with Jessie." This time I grabbed a bag of dog treats and a tennis ball, and headed outside. Before getting too close I tossed Jessie the tennis ball. She ran after it happily, brought it back and I gave her a treat. I also tossed a treat towards the other dog from far away. He ate it right away. I tossed a treat to Jessie. Tossed a treat to the other dog. I gave all my attention to Jessie, who was sort of running between me and the dog, because I knew that if I got too close or gave any attention to the other dog, he'd bolt again. Now I was tossing the treats closer and closer to our barn. I got the barn doors open a bit and tossed a few treats inside. Jessie went in first. And the other dog followed her in there. Great. I had just trapped my sweet labradoodle inside a barn with a wild pitbull, what was I thinking?! Eek. I entered the barn with them. I got a hold of Jessie near the doors, tossed a few treats further into the barn which the other dog went to eat. I quickly got Jessie and myself out of the barn and shut the doors behind me, trapping the other dog in. Phew! I did it!

Wait a minute, what did I just do?!

Right then my husband pulled down the driveway. I walked up to his truck and said "Hi Honey! So, just thought you might want to know that I caught a loose pitbull and now he's in our barn."

We called the police to let them know about the dog, and that he had a collar on, but it didn't have any ID tags. We called all the surrounding towns' police departments to see if anyone had reported a lost dog. We posted it on Facebook, the Patch, and the Granite State Dog Rescue site. No luck. They didn't know of anyone looking for this dog.

192 shares of this Facebook posting!
I was impressed with how many people, including strangers, really wanted to help find his owners!

With the storm now in motion, and the animal control officer off duty, the police asked if we could we keep him for the night? Uh, sure. Our tack room in the barn is heated so we could keep him in there overnight. I was afraid to bring him in the house. What if he had fleas, or anything that our dog, Jessie, could catch? And let's not forget the fact that this poor, cold, hungry dog looked, well.....a bit scary. We brought him out a bowl of dog food and water. He scarfed it down. We gave him another half a bowl of food. Gone in a second. Poor guy was literally starving. I had been able to get him into a horse stall, and once he realized that he was trapped he started barking. He was clearly scared and unsure of what was happening to him. Jonathan was the brave one who put a leash on him for the first time. Putting your hand near the mouth of a barking strange dog, when his head is that big and muscly, is a very brave move! But as soon as the leash was clipped on, everything changed. Somehow putting a leash on him helped the tension disappear. We were all calmer and more trusting of each other. I imagined he was thinking "Oh, I understand. You're taking me for a walk? Cool. I like walks!"

Cooper, once we put a leash on him, he was much calmer.

"Look, Mom, this dog followed me home. Can we have a sleepover?" 

Jessie seemed to like him a lot, and she can be a bit of a snob when it comes to other dogs. We tried to get him settled into the heated tack room in the barn with the snow now coming down. Unfortunately, this dog did not care for the barn arrangement and let us know by his constant barking. I couldn't do it. I couldn't leave him out in the barn alone overnight. Fine. He can sleep in our house (please don't have fleas), so we set up our dog crate in our kitchen, got him settled in and we all headed up to bed. Now that he was inside, the barking subsided, but it was replaced by very loud, very sad whimpering. Oh my heart. Okay, fine. I went downstairs, dragged the dog crate into our living room next to our couch, realizing that if anyone wanted to sleep that night, I was going to have to spend the night on the couch next to this pooch. As long as he could see me, he stopped crying. Finally, this poor guy fell asleep. The police from a neighboring town said that they had received a few calls reporting a loose dog fitting his description running through people's yards over the past week or two.

So this was probably his first night in a warm house in a long time. (And knowing Cooper now-- this is the boy who can't be outside in the winter for longer than 15 minutes without begging to get back inside-- It breaks my heart that he lived out in the winter's cold for that long!)

The next morning, school was cancelled due to the snow. We cautiously let him out of the dog crate and carefully tried to get a sense of what his real temperament was. It only took about one minute to realize what a love-bug this guy was. At first, I wouldn't let my kids near him. Safety first. But quickly it became evident that he certainly wasn't aggressive (well maybe a bit aggressively affectionate! Definitely a licker!) Ryan was lying on the floor and this dog chose to go lie down, belly up, right next to Ryan. Hmmm. Guess he likes kids. I was on the phone a lot that morning, still trying to track down his owners, and just as I'm saying to a friend "No, no, no, we are not keeping him!" he comes over to me and sweetly puts his giant head in my lap, nudges my hands onto his head and sighs. We all started laughing. And I even said to him, "Oh, I'm so sorry puppy! We will find a you a great home, it's just not going to be ours!" Famous last words, I guess.

The truth is we tried adopting a rescue dog just 2 months before Cooper showed up and it didn't work out. I was so embarrassed that we weren't successful. That failure convinced me that we were supposed to be a one dog family. But obviously life didn't agree, so it sent another dog... to our doorstep.

Cooper's first morning with us. We were nervous,
but he made it pretty obvious that he just wanted love.

I guess he likes kids?

He was so exhausted, even the next morning, that he couldn't keep his eyes open.

Long story short, we were required to turn him him over to the town so they could quarantine him for 7 days and give his owners a chance to find and claim him. (He was not microchipped.)

Obviously, the owners never turned up. And on the eighth day, Jonathan and I brought Cooper home. For good.

Cooper's ride home with us after the adoption.

Although I do have to admit that at first, I convinced myself that we were just fostering Cooper. I knew he would be miserable living in a kennel (even though the kennel staff were so good to him), but I knew that he would be so stressed out there. So I had to get him out immediately. I was also concerned about what his odds of adoption would be given that he looked like he might be a pitbull. (Is he a pitbull? When we called him a pitbull mix, people would say "no, he's a boxer mix" and when we called him a boxer mix, people would say "no, he's a pitbull mix". It was pretty funny actually. We couldn't seem to get it right.) But the truth is that he's a love-bug no matter what his genetics are.

And now, 12 months later, we can't imagine our family without him. We love him. And he drives us crazy--We call him "the-most-expensive-free-dog-ever" (because he needed to be neutered, needed a tooth removed, and has been prone to many injuries, illnesses and issues), and he has peed inside my house more times than I ever thought I'd tolerate from an animal, but beyond all that he is just a big bundle of love which makes it all worth it.

Dog shaming Cooper last year.
His marking problem got a little better after we had him fixed, but it continues to be a struggle.
Don't put anything tall (like this hockey bag) near a doorway because he just can't resist marking it.
Of course, he never marks when a person is around--none of us have ever actually caught him marking--
so it makes it that much more difficult to teach him to stop.
Good thing he's so cute.

I still wonder about his original owners. Everyday I've asked Cooper "So where were you this time last year?" And whenever he tries to jump in my car, I wonder "Does he think I'm going to take him 'home' now? Back to his first family?" I really can't imagine why his first family didn't try to find him. No, he's not perfect, but they must have loved him? He's got some basic training, so someone cared for him at some point. He's got his sit, stay, paw commands down. He doesn't jump on tables to steal food, he's not aggressive and he's well socialized with dogs and people. And nothing makes him happier than to snuggle in close with his humans. So why didn't they search for him? Questions I'll probably never know the answers to. But I just have to hope that Cooper is happy to be a part of our family now. Because at this point, a year later, even if his original family appeared, they just might break our hearts if they tried to take him back.

Unless of course they catch us on a day that he marked inside the house again, THEN I just *might* pack his bags for them. 

I'm joking, Coopy, I'm joking. :)

February 13th is Cooper's Adoption Day with us. We've decided to make that his "birthday" day, too, since there are no records to tell us his real birthday (or even birth year.) But the vets guessed that he was probably about 2 years old when he arrived on our farm, so next week, Cooper will turn 3 whether it's true or not!

And I have to say, if you already have one dog, and you're thinking about getting another, I say go for it! Obviously, I had some major doubts. (It definitely has to be the right match for you and your first dog.) But to see my two dogs play together everyday is very special. Yes, Jessie went on an eating strike at the beginning of this journey, so I worried it wasn't going to work, but everyone settled in after a little while, (okay it actually took a few *months* for Jessie to adjust) but now I can't imagine only having one dog and I think that Jessie would agree. Jessie and Cooper are such an unlikely pair (our vet office teases us that we're probably the only family to have a labradoodle and a pitbull), but it kind of feels like it was meant to be. So, maybe instead of looking for new pets in our future, we'll just wait for them to wander over to our property and find us. It worked out well for us this time. :)