They Say It's Your Birthday!

Just FYI, all of you people who complain about having to rake Fall LEAVES can just bite me.

...and I still have a lot more rocks to rake up.

On the upside, today I got some very fun chicken-themed birthday stuff!

My card:

No surprises here!

Although his little butt is mounted on a spring and jiggles nonstop when you open the card, which had me giggling like an idiot for about 10 minutes.  I'm easily entertained.

I also got some cool Chickam fan art stuff--a coffee mug and a Tshirt--featuring Weedcat, our Giant Cochin roo, whom everyone calls His Majesty King Fluffy Pants!

And a see-through chicken!

Oooh, my aching giblets!

 I was chasing and pecking everyone with it at this point, just to be obnoxious.

The model partway done, the kid was helping me put it together.  It's about the size of a banty and right now looks like Mike the Headless Chicken.

Except for the rocks, it was a great day!

ARRRGGHHH, DAMNED ROOSTERS ANYWAY!

Yeah, another round of Weedcat vs Cam. Cam managed to tear the almost healed scabs off Weeds' face, so once again Weeds got the worst of it. They both ended up with a bunch of missing neck feathers, too.  Neither is seriously hurt, though.

This time, it had been raining for two days and both boys were covered with a mixture of blood & mud, so it was bath time all around.

ROOSTER SHAMING
This was after I'd been forced to just hose off his head & neck to get most of the gunk off. Not such a big shot when you're all wet, are you Weedcat?

Next it's time for the pretty beach towel!

 OK Cam, your turn!
Next to the word 'Dipshit' in the dictionary is this picture.

 He had no clue what the big white tub was for.

But that changed pretty damned quick.  

 Pretty towel time for you, too.

 Then he got to see what a bad boy looked like.

 Scrawny, embarrassed rooster.

They both got dried with the hair dryer and stayed inside for another hour and a half until totally dry since it's still cold & wet outside, then Cam went back out into the coop. Weeds is inside tonight and probably tomorrow until I'm sure no one will peck at his wounds, then HE goes into the coop and Cam into the small run like before.

I swear I'm gonna stuff them both in a box and mail them to Argentina. We're within a couple of weeks of having the back of the property cleared, planted & fenced so they'll have a 1/2 acre to roam--but no, they have to do this NOW.

Now that Cam is dry I can see that Weedcat managed to remove ALL of Cam's fluffy face feathers. Guess he spoiled Cam's pretty-boy good looks until they grow back.

Spring Is Here...For Today, Anyway

The weather warmed and the wind died away for one day, so I freshened the dustbathing tub with lovely fresh dirt for the chickens.  Linc and CM jumped right in.  As they sifted the dirt and small rocks came to the top I'd grab them out and discard them.

Daphne joined them...

Rocket didn't so much climb into the tub as fall in.

Meanwhile, Fran the Frizzle was having her own brand of fun by accosting Weedcat, who was snoozing in a sunbeam, yanking on his cape and comb, stepping on his head and generally being an obnoxious old lady.

Back at the tub, Burger joins CM and Linc, who are apparently going for a World Record in dustbath camping.

Little known fact:  Your flockmates make great goodie/dirt sifters.  And double as a handy table!

CM is ousted from her spot by Burger.  Happiness is being covered in dirt, though.

CM avoids the Burger issue by jamming her head under Linc.  IF I CAN'T SEE YOU YOU CAN'T SEE ME.

Surprisingly, this seems to work.  Linc is puzzled, however.

...and once Burger leaves the Dustbath Twins have it to themselves again.

...until Weedcat decides that it's his turn.  When the Head Roo goes dustbathing, it's always SRO.

CM and Linc wisely decide that they are done after all.

And Weedcat gets down to some serious dirt throwing.

More big hens stuff in.  Good thing I bought the large size tub.

Zip demonstrates her dirt throwing technique.

...and she and Weeds have a little friendly dirt-throwing competition.

Crack climbs in and messes up the entire procedure by stuffing under Weedcat.

But gets it together pretty quick, becoming a beak rest for Zip..

Weedcat by now has attracted so many hens that he is ousted and decides to sunbathe next to the tub, where Bug does her best to annoy him by tugging on his cape & comb.

'Are you dead?  Are you dead?  Does this bug you?  Hey, you dead, big guy?'

Meanwhile there is a line forming at the tub.

Zip is falling into a dustbathing coma.

Bug continues in her quest to get a healthy fed-up rooster peck.

Eventually Bug bugs him enough and he rejoins the girls in the tub.

I just wonder why it is always the biggest girls who insist on all trying to cram into the tub with Weedcat at once.

The more crowded it is, the better they like it, silly chickens.

The Clock Is Ticking...

The countdown to trimming the fluffbutts has begun.  In one week we remove everyone's dignity, and but good.  It's gonna be a total Shock and Awe campaign because I only want to have to do this once--I remember last year it took three shearings to accomplish our goal.

First His Majesty King Fluffy Pants, Weedcat...

 Yes, and YOU, Cam...

 And then the laying hens.

 
Because not much, ahh...business is actually getting done when Weeds and Cam get down to business--not all of the eggs I'm using when I cook are fertile.  So the Butt-Shearing Apocalypse commences next Saturday.

The old ladies who are out of lay and the banties escape this indignity--the banties since they don't grow enough buttfluff to interfere with fertility.  With everyone else we'll have to stock up on goodies to apologize with.

Wattle Wiggle Wars!

Because of this:

We were forced--FORCED I tell you--to do this:

Fred was merely confused, but Weedcat's dignity was somewhat bruised.

Fun With Baby Chicks

So we let the chicks run roughshod over the living room the other day...

And my husband made the mistake of falling asleep on the couch.  You know you are used to house chickens when it just fails to faze you any more.

Yoya deciding what she wants to watch while husband becomes a baby chick playground.

'Whatcha doin', dad? Ya trying ta sleep?'

That man can sleep through anything. Luckily they were kind and nobody pooped on him.

Later on they were back in their brooder box.

Yoya photobombs the kids.

And decides to come out!

...then changes her mind and jumps back in again.

Every time she jumped up there and down again it shook the entire brooder box, especially the edges where the chicks were roosting...making them madly grip with their feet and scaring the Hell outta everyone.

Which was *not* appreciated.

Later still, Weedcat came in for a brief visit to get him used to the chicks, and they to him. Since mama hens can be unpredictable at best around roosters, we put the cover on the brooder box while he was in...a wise choice since Yoya constantly gave him Death Threat Growls while he was in.

But Weeds was sweet and just sat down next to the box and quietly clucked to Yo and the chicks, calling and picking up & dropping little bits of hay and 'finding' food they'd kicked out to show what a great provider he was.

Good boy, Weeds!