Catching Some Rays

My flock has quietly gathered together to infuse some well-needed solar warmth into their bones, which should stave off the worst of the frigid nights they spend in the tall pines. Animals aren’t the dumb creatures we learned they were in kindergarten and all through school. They have intuition, instincts, feelings, alertness, sense of foreboding well before us humans while we are falsely considered the experts of all knowledge. These chickens know a thing or two and long before I do. They know when it’s more expedient to run away as in fight or flight. They also know when to fight. I remember certain hens from the past who valiantly and altruistically protected their chicks when an invader appeared, and to the bitter end their wings were outstretched to hide their offspring under them.

Here at the House of Cluck-Cluck we do have a pretty good hen house that could keep all of them on high perches safe from midnight marauders looking for late meals. But ever since one ferret broke through the chicken wire enclosure that space has only been used to safely raise the babies and their mothers for as long as needed until they’re big enough to avoid getting stepped on by the mob of feisty roosters. Thankfully now, those males have finally calmed down slightly as they roll into adulthood but we still have far too many and most likely we'll have to cull them. We know this and have been putting it off. Nobody seems to want them except to put them in their pot of soup.

Years ago, I knew of a family that lived on a large property with ponies and chickens and who knows what else. They also had a big hill, almost a mountain on their land. The father must have felt like I do and preferred to let the roosters loose to fend for themselves up on this mountain rather than shooting them or breaking their necks. Perhaps he too was a softie and just wanted them to have a chance at life, even if it would be harsh. I can only imagine the noises coming off that gathering of males trying to survive without any domestic help that they had growing up.

Personally, I have mixed feelings about it. I’m not sure what is the worst outcome but whatever that is I must push on and do something about it because we’re going to have more expectant hens in spring and more males added to the mix. So, time’s a wastin'.

We must tighten our resolve and figure out the most humane way of dealing with this problem before it multiplies even more with a cacophony of baby cluckers in a couple of months. People don’t seem to respond to ads for just roosters unless they want to eat them so my best bet is to advertise a trio of two hens and one cockerel. But which ones? And worse yet, how do we catch them? They have the run of the whole place and can easily go into a densely wooded area that we can’t get through easily or quickly.

Sometimes I remember back to a time when my biggest problem was what I was going to eat that day or wear when I lived a city life in the suburbs in a different country without farm animals or the beauty of raw nature around me. Except for my last house near the Santa Monica mountains that had an acre of wildness with deer, rattlers, coyotes, raccoons and tarantulas added to the scenic beauty. Although I wouldn’t trade this for the world, perhaps it is the time to seriously consider and follow through on simplifying our lives, as we know them now. In the meantime, I hope the reader enjoys some of these candid shots of chooks here sunbathing.