May 19, 2007
When I woke up this morning for work (yes, I know it is Saturday) the power was off. Fortunately, my internal alarm clock does not require a cord. I got up, fed Tolkien, apologized to Lilo for being out of canned food, and gave the chicks food and water. I couldn't stand the stink. I told them it was time to go to the coop. I shot off to work, but didn't make it very far. The reason the electricity was off was because a tree on one of the lower roads had fallen on the power lines. No worries. Someone had taken the log off the dirt road that bypasses that section. Unfortunately, the kid in the Honda in front of me turned too early, and got high centered. In a wonderful assembly of skills, the Patrolman, the Electrician, and the Engineer got the kid back on the road. There should be a joke that starts out that way... "A Highway Patrolman, an Electrician, and an Engineer were all looking at a high-centered car..." At any rate, I made it to work, and after battling some resistance from my testbed, I had a fairly productive day. I got to a reasonable stopping point (i.e. I have to go back in tomorrow) so that I could go by the feed store and get straw, and still have daylight for cleaning the coop.
The coop was horrible. When the last chickens met their Maker at the hands (paws) of the coyotes, I figured the rats would move out. No way. The absence of the chickens turned the coop into Shangri-La for rats. If there were a market for rat poop, I'd be a freakin' millionare. I found two rats living in the food barrel. I don't know how they jumped out when they needed. It was three feet from the bottom. Maybe they could get in and out when they started, but had eating their way to not being able to escape. Apparently, they didn't care. They had a cozy home, and plenty of food. There was probably ten pounds of chicken scratch left. As I tried to extricate them, the first one jumped off of the tool I was using to get them right in front of Tolkien. He looked at the rat as it scurried away, then looked at me and wagged his tail. A born killer, that one.
Wuss that I am, I couldn't bring myself to kill the last one. I picked it up and finally decided to fling it into the woods. It went about fifteen feet, reached out, and grabbed a tree limb. It was a freakin' ninja rat. I continued cleaning the coop, and had I done that first, I might have been more willing to end the ninja rat's life. I never got all the rat poop out. It seemed to spawn new rat poop every time I swept. Finally, I filled the food hopper, hauled water up, put straw out, and moved the chicks in.
They were comical. At first they were unwilling to move any further from each other than they could in the bin that they previously lived in. One of them exhibited complete human behavior. She was terrified and sought solace by bunching herself in the middle of the others. After a minute, she realized she was ok. Not to appear too much of a coward, she immediately came out and started bossing the others around. I just checked on them, and they seem fine. It is a little cool tonight, and I hope they can stay warm. I closed them in completely. I still have to rebuild the pen because the outside floorboards fell down the last time Annie was adventuring. I hope it will be a temporary fix given that I have already told Annie that we are going to build a new coop. It will be bigger, faster, stronger... We have the technology... Yeah, that will be two years from now...
Cock of the Walk...
The coop was horrible. When the last chickens met their Maker at the hands (paws) of the coyotes, I figured the rats would move out. No way. The absence of the chickens turned the coop into Shangri-La for rats. If there were a market for rat poop, I'd be a freakin' millionare. I found two rats living in the food barrel. I don't know how they jumped out when they needed. It was three feet from the bottom. Maybe they could get in and out when they started, but had eating their way to not being able to escape. Apparently, they didn't care. They had a cozy home, and plenty of food. There was probably ten pounds of chicken scratch left. As I tried to extricate them, the first one jumped off of the tool I was using to get them right in front of Tolkien. He looked at the rat as it scurried away, then looked at me and wagged his tail. A born killer, that one.
Wuss that I am, I couldn't bring myself to kill the last one. I picked it up and finally decided to fling it into the woods. It went about fifteen feet, reached out, and grabbed a tree limb. It was a freakin' ninja rat. I continued cleaning the coop, and had I done that first, I might have been more willing to end the ninja rat's life. I never got all the rat poop out. It seemed to spawn new rat poop every time I swept. Finally, I filled the food hopper, hauled water up, put straw out, and moved the chicks in.
They were comical. At first they were unwilling to move any further from each other than they could in the bin that they previously lived in. One of them exhibited complete human behavior. She was terrified and sought solace by bunching herself in the middle of the others. After a minute, she realized she was ok. Not to appear too much of a coward, she immediately came out and started bossing the others around. I just checked on them, and they seem fine. It is a little cool tonight, and I hope they can stay warm. I closed them in completely. I still have to rebuild the pen because the outside floorboards fell down the last time Annie was adventuring. I hope it will be a temporary fix given that I have already told Annie that we are going to build a new coop. It will be bigger, faster, stronger... We have the technology... Yeah, that will be two years from now...
Cock of the Walk...