Today’s update is a mix of happy news and sad news, as I’ve recently had to navigate one of the hardest parts of keeping chickens {or any livestock}. We’ll start with the happy and go from there.

After waiting and waiting, we finally have a new egg layer! My prediction of Hazel was wrong, but Mr accurately predicted Happy as the first to start earning her keep. She picked a wild and crazy day to start laying too: a windy, rainy, cold-front-moving-through day to be exact. I could tell something was going on, because I could hear her egg-buzz from inside the house and Pecan kept walking her in and out of the “egg house,” {aka: the old coop, since everyone sleeps in the babies’ new box}.

There was in fact a beautiful little brown egg waiting for me, and Happy came running up to tell me all about it. As did Helga, who has tried to convince me every day that the egg I’m collecting is hers, despite the fact she will lay white eggs. And I literally watched Happy lay her egg one afternoon {as did other chickens}.

As Stephen correctly surmised in a recent comment: it’s time to think about winterizing the chickens. Hard to believe, but true. We’ve moved them to “winter pasture,” and the process went smoother than expected. It helped that I locked them in the boxes and then moved the fence, although the chickens had a great deal to say about that process. I’m pretty sure they were cussing. All was forgiven when they realized they had new grass to explore and scratch around.

I’ve been waiting for a rain to see how well the tarp will hold up in this arrangement, and that answer came early this morning: one zip-tie popped from the weight of holding water. Thankfully this is a much easier fix than the bent U-posts were over the Summer {I just have to attach it lower down, to increase the drainage angle}. In the meantime, it will surprise no one that the baby chickens are going out in the rain to drink from the puddle on the tarp.

The pile of zinnia stalks from my flowerbed swap was met with enthusiasm: Pepper remembered the pile from last year and was the first to pounce, with the Speckles following close behind. All the chickies have been enthusiastically attacking the dried zinnia heads and gobbling down the seeds. It’s super cute. And please note Pippin’s gorgeous fluffy new feathers, post-molting.

Now for the sad news … Unfortunately, Penguin is no longer with us. The first indication something wasn’t right came when she failed to greet me for treat time, choosing instead to stay cozy in her favorite sleeping spot. Since her molt had just kicked into high gear, I assumed it was taking its toll, but within days it was obvious something more serious was going on. When it became clear she was getting progressively worse, we made the hard choice to put her out of her misery. My very untrained “diagnosis” is that she had underlying kidney issues {indicated by previous weird spells} and the strain of molting was too much for her already-compromised system. It was a very hard decision, and I miss her sweet fluffy face, but I couldn’t let her keep suffering.

On a happier note for ending this update, a few chicken candids, because this flock is hilarious.

I’ve been working off and on getting Pecan to only fly up on me when I say it’s okay, with varying degrees of success. {This frequently involves catching him midflight and guiding him down to the ground}. The other day he wanted to come, so I tapped my forearm and said “up.” As he was flying up, I noticed Happy watching. She kept staring at me with *The Trajectory Gaze* so I knelt and tapped my arm for her. She hopped right up and joined Pecan in sidling up to my shoulder, so proud of herself. Honestly, I was impressed too – she picked up on that command super fast.

When I realized the attitude Pepper was serving, I busted out laughing. Her face is the perfect example of the phrase “Your odds of being killed by a chicken are low … but never zero.” To be so small, she has a lot of personality and sass. She may be the tiniest chicken, weighing less than a pound, but she is the bossiest. Maybe surviving 2 hawk attacks does that for a girl.

Life with chickens is a neverending adventure, and I’m enjoying {almost} every minute.
Now to figure out how to cozy things up for Winter … and get their fancy new feeder set up.

Have you ever had “circus chickens” wanting to hang out on your shoulder?