The sound of cheeping greeted me this morning as I walked downstairs to start chores. Grabbing the flashlight, I peeked inside the cabinet incubator sitting at the base of the stairs, and sure enough, five Black-Copper Maran chicks were waddling around inside.
The Black Copper Maran is a French breed, and very rare, so the hatch is exciting! The hens lay a dark brown, almost chocolate-colored egg. I bought these eggs from a breeder in another state, who shipped them to me to hatch. Many folks who visit here are amazed to learn that an egg can be sent through the mail and still grow a chick three weeks later.
These chicks are coal black with white chests, and feathered feet -- cute as buttons. I have six older Maran chicks already outside in the hen house, so these little guys will be joining them in a few weeks.
Four more eggs to go, and one is already pipping the shell, meaning its little beak has broken through. Now it must twist and turn all the way around the shell, continuing to break it open. As tempting as it becomes to want to help a struggling chick, being able to hatch by themselves seems to be an essential key to survival. If the chick isn't strong enough to hatch, there is something wrong, and helping it out of the shell makes for a miserable time watching it slowly die. Don't ask me how I know.
The chicks hatch soaking wet, and will remain in the incubator for the rest of the day, drying off. Right before hatching, the chicks absorb the remainder of the egg yolk into their bellies. When a hen hatches chicks naturally in a nest, she often waits on the nest for several days waiting for all the eggs to hatch. The first ones to hatch must wait for the latecomers. This will provide them with all the nutrition they need for the next two days.
Tonight, we'll put the dry chicks under a heatlamp, with water and chick-starter food in dishes nearby. The heatlamp takes the place of the real mother, and the chicks' natural instinct to find food and water will take care of the rest!
In five short months these tiny chicks will be out in the barn laying eggs or crowing with the sunrise, and starting the cycle all over again. It never grows old watching it happen. Guess that's why I live on a farm!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
The Adventures Of Sophie The Ferret
Rats are not my favorite creatures on this planet. Recently, several large specimens decided to join us here on Rainbow Gate Farm. Ugh!
"I have a great idea. Buy a ferret!" one of our friends suggested. "They hunt rats and kill them, and any remaining ones will leave the farm."
So began our ferret quest, and within a week, we had become the proud owners of not one, but two ferrets, Sophie and Dillon. They came complete with a large cage, and an assurance that they were "house-broken and litter-trained."
It took us all of a few hours to realize that our definition of "house-broken and litter-trained" was slightly different from that of the ferrets' previous owners. Silly me. I didn't know it meant they used the entire house as a litter tray!
Along with their musky odor, the idea of having these two rascals as indoor pets quickly lost its attraction. We moved their cage into the garage, but I felt sorry for them being locked up, so we transferred them to the big aviary cage in the barn.
Now, ferrets chase rats down very tiny holes. This should have been my first clue. The next morning, there was only one ferret, Dillon in the aviary. Sophie was gone. We searched the barn, and the farm, but there was no sign of her. We moved Dillon back to the cage in the garage.
Five days passed, and still no Sophie. The weather is changing quickly here in Iowa, and I worried about her, hoping she had found somewhere warm to curl up, and lots of mice and rats to feast on!
The next night, my son, Joel, heard an odd noise at the back door. It was one in the morning but he got up, and went to check it out. There was Sophie, scratching on the glass door! I can't be certain, but I think Joel said he heard her say, "Let me in, it's cold out here!"
Most people would have learned the first time, but last night, we decided to re-locate the ferrets to the trailer house where we raise all the baby goats when they are born in January. We blocked off all the holes, shut the windows and doors, and let them loose.
"Go! Be free and find mice, rats and other wonderful creatures to eat!" I exclaimed, as we left the trailer to go milk the goats.
Walking across in the dark two hours later, my helper, Renee, said, "I just saw a ferret!"
Sure enough, Dillon was scampering across the yard, toward the horse pasture. We picked him up and searched for Sophie, but she was nowhere to be found.
This morning, I took the flashlight with me when I headed out to milk in the dark, and searched again, but no Sophie. My husband laughed, and said, "She's probably headed back for the house."
Which is exactly where we found her a few hours later, trying to get in the back door.
Now we own two ferrets, who eat expensive ferret food, and couldn't care less about hunting rats. I think I saw a rat doing a victory dance across from the grain bin this morning.
Anyone else have any great ideas?
"I have a great idea. Buy a ferret!" one of our friends suggested. "They hunt rats and kill them, and any remaining ones will leave the farm."
So began our ferret quest, and within a week, we had become the proud owners of not one, but two ferrets, Sophie and Dillon. They came complete with a large cage, and an assurance that they were "house-broken and litter-trained."
It took us all of a few hours to realize that our definition of "house-broken and litter-trained" was slightly different from that of the ferrets' previous owners. Silly me. I didn't know it meant they used the entire house as a litter tray!
Along with their musky odor, the idea of having these two rascals as indoor pets quickly lost its attraction. We moved their cage into the garage, but I felt sorry for them being locked up, so we transferred them to the big aviary cage in the barn.
Now, ferrets chase rats down very tiny holes. This should have been my first clue. The next morning, there was only one ferret, Dillon in the aviary. Sophie was gone. We searched the barn, and the farm, but there was no sign of her. We moved Dillon back to the cage in the garage.
Five days passed, and still no Sophie. The weather is changing quickly here in Iowa, and I worried about her, hoping she had found somewhere warm to curl up, and lots of mice and rats to feast on!
The next night, my son, Joel, heard an odd noise at the back door. It was one in the morning but he got up, and went to check it out. There was Sophie, scratching on the glass door! I can't be certain, but I think Joel said he heard her say, "Let me in, it's cold out here!"
Most people would have learned the first time, but last night, we decided to re-locate the ferrets to the trailer house where we raise all the baby goats when they are born in January. We blocked off all the holes, shut the windows and doors, and let them loose.
"Go! Be free and find mice, rats and other wonderful creatures to eat!" I exclaimed, as we left the trailer to go milk the goats.
Walking across in the dark two hours later, my helper, Renee, said, "I just saw a ferret!"
Sure enough, Dillon was scampering across the yard, toward the horse pasture. We picked him up and searched for Sophie, but she was nowhere to be found.
This morning, I took the flashlight with me when I headed out to milk in the dark, and searched again, but no Sophie. My husband laughed, and said, "She's probably headed back for the house."
Which is exactly where we found her a few hours later, trying to get in the back door.
Now we own two ferrets, who eat expensive ferret food, and couldn't care less about hunting rats. I think I saw a rat doing a victory dance across from the grain bin this morning.
Anyone else have any great ideas?
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Fall Preparation on the Farm.
Fall is a busy time here on Rainbow Gate Farm. Even though the goats are 'winding down' for the year, their swollen bellies tell us it won't be long before the barn is ringing with the sound of newborn babies. We're cleaning out barns, and hauling the manure on the surrounding fields to help fertilize next year's crops of corn, soybeans and hay.
In the first week of December, we will "dry-off" all the milking does -- or quit milking them. A lot of them beat us to it, by drying up by themselves.
Their bodies need the preparation time to concentrate on feeding the growing kids inside. Most goats have twins or triplets, and quadruplets are not unheard of. About the middle of January, the babies will begin arriving and then the whole year's process of raising babies and milking their dams begins once again.
My rare-breed chickens are done with their yearly moult. I turned the timers back on yesterday, so the chicken barn has swung into full summer hours, with the lights coming on at 5am and shutting off at 10pm. This tricks the 'girls' into thinking it is summer, and they will begin to lay eggs again. Although we eat some of these eggs, most of them will be collected for sale on eBay as 'hatching eggs'. You can check out our different rare breeds of chicken on our website at this address
http://www.rainbowgatefarm.com
Just navigate to the Rare-Breed Poultry page.
It's almost time to start evening chores. My helper, Renee, will be arriving in about an hour to help me prepare for milking.
Tomorrow I'll be working again with a yearling horse colt we are boarding here. He's a cremello Tennessee Walker and will be used for breeding in the future. When he arrived on the farm, he hadn't been handled much, and was nervous of people. Because he will remain a stallion, it's imperative we teach him manners, how to lead, and tie up, so he doesn't become dangerous or mean.
In the first week of December, we will "dry-off" all the milking does -- or quit milking them. A lot of them beat us to it, by drying up by themselves.
Their bodies need the preparation time to concentrate on feeding the growing kids inside. Most goats have twins or triplets, and quadruplets are not unheard of. About the middle of January, the babies will begin arriving and then the whole year's process of raising babies and milking their dams begins once again.
My rare-breed chickens are done with their yearly moult. I turned the timers back on yesterday, so the chicken barn has swung into full summer hours, with the lights coming on at 5am and shutting off at 10pm. This tricks the 'girls' into thinking it is summer, and they will begin to lay eggs again. Although we eat some of these eggs, most of them will be collected for sale on eBay as 'hatching eggs'. You can check out our different rare breeds of chicken on our website at this address
http://www.rainbowgatefarm.com
Just navigate to the Rare-Breed Poultry page.
It's almost time to start evening chores. My helper, Renee, will be arriving in about an hour to help me prepare for milking.
Tomorrow I'll be working again with a yearling horse colt we are boarding here. He's a cremello Tennessee Walker and will be used for breeding in the future. When he arrived on the farm, he hadn't been handled much, and was nervous of people. Because he will remain a stallion, it's imperative we teach him manners, how to lead, and tie up, so he doesn't become dangerous or mean.
Monday, October 26, 2009
Chicken Barns And Baby Mice
Our rare breed chickens reside above one of our smaller barns. Every fall, when my husband cleans the barn below, we open the trap-doors in the floor and scrape out all the old bedding/chicken manure onto the cement below, so it can be hauled away as fertilizer.
Where you have chickens, and grain, you are also guaranteed to have mice and as we cleaned and shoveled, we disturbed several nests. As their shelter was disturbed, the mice would scatter in all directions, fleeing for the cracks and holes along the walls of the chicken coop.
My helper, Renee and I were laughing at the neat arrangement of discarded chicken feathers lining one such nest, when we noticed movement. Inside the destroyed home were about a dozen, tiny pink bodies, squirming around -- baby mice!
"They are so tiny. They can't be more than a few days old," I said.
"Now what will happen to them?" Renee asked. "Their mother ran off into that hole over there." She pointed toward the wall.
Trying not to think about the many times I'd set traps and laid bait to try and rid our barn of these grain-eating pests, I carefully scooped up the babies in my gloved hand, feathers and all. Laying them by the hole, I said, "Watch them. I'll bet their mama is going to come back for them."
Sure enough, a few seconds later, a furry grey head poked out of the hole. She looked at us, trembling, but she ran from the hole, grabbed a baby and vanished back into the wall. She re-appeared, and saved another one of her infants. Within a minute, she had rescued every single baby, relocating them to a new place safe from our clutches.
That mother mouse will never know that this mother saluted her. In the face of grave danger, and extreme fear, she came back for her children and risked her own life to save them.
What's a little grain in the face of such love?
Where you have chickens, and grain, you are also guaranteed to have mice and as we cleaned and shoveled, we disturbed several nests. As their shelter was disturbed, the mice would scatter in all directions, fleeing for the cracks and holes along the walls of the chicken coop.
My helper, Renee and I were laughing at the neat arrangement of discarded chicken feathers lining one such nest, when we noticed movement. Inside the destroyed home were about a dozen, tiny pink bodies, squirming around -- baby mice!
"They are so tiny. They can't be more than a few days old," I said.
"Now what will happen to them?" Renee asked. "Their mother ran off into that hole over there." She pointed toward the wall.
Trying not to think about the many times I'd set traps and laid bait to try and rid our barn of these grain-eating pests, I carefully scooped up the babies in my gloved hand, feathers and all. Laying them by the hole, I said, "Watch them. I'll bet their mama is going to come back for them."
Sure enough, a few seconds later, a furry grey head poked out of the hole. She looked at us, trembling, but she ran from the hole, grabbed a baby and vanished back into the wall. She re-appeared, and saved another one of her infants. Within a minute, she had rescued every single baby, relocating them to a new place safe from our clutches.
That mother mouse will never know that this mother saluted her. In the face of grave danger, and extreme fear, she came back for her children and risked her own life to save them.
What's a little grain in the face of such love?
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Snow Flurries and Pregnant Goats
Frost covers the ground now as I walk outside to start chores at five every morning. The weather man speaks of snow flurries soon to be flying here in the midwest. Our goats, being seasonal breeders, are now pregnant, and before long the sound of bleating will fill our old dairy barn, as hundreds of newborn goats enter a cold and wintery world.
The "girls" (our goat does) are a little cantankerous right now, and spend more time picking at each other than eating their grain when they enter the parlor to be milked each morning and night. Their bellies are beginning to show signs of growing new life, and by early January, they will be lumbering around with the weight of two to three kids inside. As busy a time as "kidding season" is for us, I can hardly wait!
The "girls" (our goat does) are a little cantankerous right now, and spend more time picking at each other than eating their grain when they enter the parlor to be milked each morning and night. Their bellies are beginning to show signs of growing new life, and by early January, they will be lumbering around with the weight of two to three kids inside. As busy a time as "kidding season" is for us, I can hardly wait!
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