Here Comes The Sun

The sun is shining, the weather is sweet. If you're a serama, its time to lay about on the lawn looking untidy.

Betsy catching some rays.

Smudge cautiously approaching me with the camera.

Vera and Hoppy. I need a new name for this chick.

Vera, Hoppy and the newly named Silvio. If you look carefully, you can see the difference between the month old babies in this pic. Silvio is definitely a boy, and I'm hoping that Hoppy isn't a late developer.

Amusing 'chick running' shot.

Vera makes sure that Betsy knows the score. She is getting less protective of the chicks, and to be fair the other two hens show little to no interest in the fluffballs.

Smudge. I think that once her headgear grows in, she'll look less gamey.

A running Smudge. She tends to roadrunner everywhere at the moment. The others aren't chasing her much, but I think she just likes running.

Vera tries to catch a few minutes of sun worship, while Hoppy uses her as a climbing frame.

Smudge de-mossing the patio. And making herself a rather fetching butterfly effect picture.

I imagine that this is Vera asking if Betsy will mind the kids for a bit, and Betsy is basically saying no.

I would have got pics of the pekins, but they rather sensibly had retired to the shade of the Palace. Even the possibility of chasing the micro chooks wasn't enough to tempt them forth. Hilda has gone in to the broody zone again, so had an appointment with a bucket this morning. She seems undeterred, but soggy.

It's one of those lovely days where I can't imagine not keeping hens.

Garden Timeshare

Right now, I have several poultry factions to manage. I have the pekin hordes in the Palace, Vera and the chicks, Betsy, and the new girl, Smudge. Letting them all out together is out of the question. My pekin ladies are most put out at the arrival of more micro chickens, and are unlikely to roll out the welcome mat if given opportunity to get within duffing distance. Betsy is trying to be friends with her pal Vera, but Vera's mothering instinct is strong and she's extremely defensive of her young. Throw the new pullet in to the mix, and I expect things would get ugly very quickly. So, I am juggling garden time.

The pekins get to free range in the morning. They rampage about the place, digging up my plants and attempting to gain access to the youngest's birthday present, an 8ft trampoline. So far the enclosure has baffled them, but any day now I expect to find Maeve sunbathing in the middle of it. She watches the children bouncing, and I see the wheels in her tiny chicken brain squeaking around. Some time around lunchtime, I entice them back to the Palace grounds with a treat.

Once they are safely locked away, I free Betsy and Smudge. Serama integration is nothing like as fearsome as Pekin integration. They have postured at each other a fair bit, and there's the occasional feather pull, but they seem to forget that they're supposed to be fighting for their position in the pecking order and end up mooching about the garden together or sunbathing. After several peaceful and companionable minutes, one or the other remembers they're supposed to be fighting to the death. But it's all very half-hearted, and I'm quietly hopeful that they'll be able to live together within the week. At the moment, they are still housed seperately at night.

While the micro chooks get to know each other, I put Vera and her babies in the run. They are now four weeks old, and still keeping schtum about their possible gender. They bumble about the run, eating things and chasing each other while Vera sunbathes. She occasionally squawks at them as if correcting some undesirable behaviour, but on the whole she lets them get on with it. Vera and I have obviously read the same parenting books. After a few hours, I return Betsy and Smudge to their secure units, and I allow Vera to free range with Hoppy and Sylvie. The chicks are getting very curious now, and I have to stay out to watch over them. It's amazing the amount of trouble a tiny chook can get in to. I have so far had to rescue the chicks from a lavendar bush, a tennis racket, a stray sock and a shallow puddle. I will be incredibly glad when they reach a less labour intensive phase of development. Vera tends to just squawk at them a bit, show them food, and then leg it to the dust bath. She has been an exceptional broody, but I think her patience is beginning to wane.

When my nerves have had enough, the serama family are returned to the run, and Betsy and Smudge released again. Smudge and Vera spend some time attempting to duff each other up through the weld mesh of the run, which seems pointless to me but they seem to be enjoying themselves. Hoppy and Sylvie watch this with interest but no apparent alarm, which makes me wonder if it's a training exercise. Eventually, Vera gets bored of butting her head against the bars, and assumes the position. A sunbathing serama is an amusing sight. One skinny yellow leg is always pointing skywards. If the sun is out, they all seem to congregate together, one leg aloft. It's like a mini forest of twiglets.

Now, for a bit of self promotion. If you've come to this blog as a new keeper, or you're a more experienced poultry person, I would heartily recommend the Poultrykeeper site. There is loads of information about common poultry issues, advice about ailments and even a monthly 'What to do this month' bit by yours truly. It's definitely worth a look.

Now, back to micro-managing a garden which has to hold 7 pekins, 5 serama, a trampoline and my sanity.

Well, Betsy Was Lonely, So......

It was my duty, really, to get her a pal. This little lady is a mottled, straight feathered Serama. And her new name is Smudge. On first sight, the ever tolerant husband thought she resembled a dairy cow, so we did toy with the idea of calling her Daisy, or Ermintrude. But ultimately, to me, she looks like a Smudge. So Smudge it is. She's approximately four months old, probably rubbish type, but a sweet little thing. Well, I thought so. Betsy took one look at the newcomer and leapt on her back in a frenzy of talons and feather pulling. Thankfully, Smudge retaliated in kind. After a brief skirmish, the two micro chickens circled each other warily and kept a respectful distance. I'm hoping that given time they will be firm friends.

Smudge the incredible one legged chicken.

She is refusing to pose at the moment, but I'm hoping that she'll settle in quickly and then I can get some better pictures.

As Betsy shows, after settling in Serama are generally nosey and friendly.

The pekins look on the new arrival with an air of resignation. No doubt they will give Smudge the 'chase them 'til they're sick' initiation as soon as allowed.

Meanwhile, the serama chicks are now four weeks old. I'm no nearer to working out which flavour they are, and have a sneaking suspicion they'll keep me guessing for a while yet. Some strains mature at a slower rate than others, and I think I might have a strain that matures at about the same rate as glaciers inch their way down the mountain side. No matter, they're a joy.

A camera shy Hoppy peers out from under Vera while a more confident Sylvie gives me The Look.

Hmmm, Sylvie, are you a boy?

This week, I will mostly be juggling free range time. I might need a spreadsheet.

Two Weeks Old. And Resembling Penguins

When I last posted, I was fretting about eyes and possible illness. I spent an uncomfortable, anxious night worrying that I'd find very poorly serama babies in the morning. Naturally, when I staggered out to the garage shortly after dawn I found two bouncy, wide eyed chicks stuffing their chops with chick crumb. I have come to the conclusion that they are masters of emotional manipulation, and will probably out live me. Anyway, now that they are two weeks old I thought I should share with you some up to date pics.

Vera supervises breakfast.

Hoppy and Sylvie have mastered the drinker, but it took a while. They spent most of their first week sitting in it.

Sylvie showing some nice serama posing.

Hoppy, not showing some nice serama posing.

If you look closely here, you can see Hoppy's wonky toes. Sylvie is obviously flaunting his perfect tootsie.

Now that their wing feathers are growing in, I think they look more like baby penguins than anything else. And now their wing feathers are growing in, they can fly. They are incredibly light and amazingly speedy. It's like being dive bombed by dust.

The adventure continues.

Kamikaze Chicks

Being as though serama chicks are notoriously difficult to hatch, I am delighted to have two little bundles of fluff zooming about the hutch with Vera. However, I put so much effort, worry and time in to getting them to actually hatch,, that I deliberately ignored how difficult serama are to rear. There is no ignoring it now.

Vera is proving to be an exceptional mother. She calls them over to eat and drink, she sits to keep them warm at a moments notice, and she is wonderfully tolerant of me handling them. Really, I couldn't ask for more. However, there are some things that she can't do. Serama chicks suffer from a balance problem. They fall on to their backs, and can't get back up. Why this is is a bit of a mystery, but it is speculated that a short back coupled with tiny non-feathered wings doesn't help. Several times I have found one of them laying on their back in the chick crumb, legs cycling like mad and cheeping their hearts out. Vera seems unable to right them, but does take up a loud shrieking which alerts me to the problem. I think she's calling the chick rather than me, but it is immensely helpful. I was initially concerned that I would lose one through the night to this phenomenon, but like all good mothers Vera insists on an early bedtime for her young. She trundles off to the nest box at half six and they stay under her wings until breakfast. Between us, we're keeping them upright.

Another thing to be aware of with serama is their propensity to have pasted vents. For some reason, a lot of serama babies suffer from this problem. I noticed that Hoppy had poo stuck to his bum at 3 days old, and pulled it off. This morning, both Hoppy and the currently named Sylvie (because it seems a bit silvery in colour. Original, me) both were sporting a fetching berry of poo. Because I have done my reserach, I knew that the best thing to do in this instance was to steel myself and just rip it off. Of course, you can gently bathe the mess away, but as this is likely to be a recurring problem with these chicks a lot of breeders prefer the bald bum approach. It prevents the problem occurring again, and is over in a second. Still, I winced at the thought of giving such tiny chicks what amounts to a bikini wax. With a deep breath, I quickly tugged the blockage from Hoppy's derriere. He squeaked, understandably, and Vera pecked my finger in retaliation. Fair enough really. He is not hurt, though, just less fluffy and more exposed. Hopefully now I won't have to find him at death's door because his vent has been pasted shut. Sylvie proved a trickier customer, so I am keeping an eye on her today. I'm not convinced that her vent is actually blocked, more that her bum feathers are a bit dirty. She may get herself a trip to the bidet before the day is out, but eventually I suspect she will also be bald of bum. To steal a serama breeders quote: 'A bald arse is a clean arse'.

They appear to be developing well, but left to their own devices I can see why they have the reputation of being difficult to have success with. They are certainly not a beginners breed. However, with a large dose of luck and some intense hands on rearing, I am hoping to have at least one new flock member.

Now, back to ensuring that no-one drowns themselves/eats the bedding/blocks up their vent/gets stuck in an impossibly small space.

Gratuitous Chick Pics

Being as though I have spent all day watching the new additions, I thought I'd force lots of pictures on you lot too. Like a new mother brandishing albums full of junior being sick, here I come. And there is no escape. Mwahahahahaha!

Here we have Hoppy, 3 days old, and back in his shoe to see if we can straighten that middle banana toe a bit more.

This is the new chick, as yet un-named even temporarily, a mere 16 hours post-hatch.

Vera shows Hoppy how to eat: 'You open your face. Like this'.

Hoppy is a quick learner.

Hoppy attempts the serama pose, but looks a bit odd without any impressive feathers.

Although he is wearing very fetching 'Adam Ant' style make-up.

Holding claws.

I like to think of this look as 'Come any closer to my offspring, human, and you'll lose something fleshy'.

Handsome little devil, isn't he?

Catching up on the rugby scores.

It's the amazing six-legged chicken!

Well, chick 2 keeping warm anyway.

Hello!

I have lots more. Run. Run away while you still can!

Another Birth Story

As Day 23 slipped in to Day 24 I began to worry. The egg was still cheeping but Vera now had a lively, demanding chick (named temporarily as Hoppy) that needed to eat and drink. So she had to leave the eggs to lead the bouncy (and quite frankly, mental) Hoppy to the food and water. All the time she was away, the eggs were cooling.

I watched proceedings nervously. Twice I found Vera settled down near the feeder keeping Hoppy warm, and ignoring the cheeping egg. I put her back in the nest each time, and kept my fingers crossed. She was definitely losing the will to sit, and I couldn't blame her. Hoppy was now ranging out from under Vera's protective wing, and causing mischief. Now that Vera had shown him how to eat, he decided to practice pecking at everything. His initial target was his mother's feet. Vera would squeal as each peck landed, and shuffle backwards. This became great fun for the little chick, and eventually Vera's patience ran out. She scooped him under her wing with her beak, and muttered grumpily. However, Hoppy was not sleepy. He wriggled back around to Vera's front, bashing the other eggs about as he did so, and arrived in front of her triumphant. He then tried to peck her in the eye. Vera was too quick for him and got her eye closed before he could make contact. So he weaved his head around to the other side and had a go at her other eye. This continued for a while, with the chick pestering her eyes alternately, and Vera doing semaphore with her eyelids. I admired her patience and restraint. Eventually, the little hooligan got sleepy and flopped forward on to the bedding, cheeping exhaustedly. Vera shuffled forwards and covered him with her ample bosom. She probably got a whole five minutes of peace.

Every so often the cheeping egg would really go for it, and Hoppy would cheep back. They were soon dueting an almighty racket, and Vera's soothing crooning did little to quieten them. I kept watching for signs of pipping, but as the afternoon wore on I began to lose heart. As Vera took Hoppy for his dinner, I picked the egg up and listened. The chick inside was scratching and tapping but didn't seem to be getting anywhere. The temptation to help it was enormous, but I know that if a chick isn't strong enough to pip, it isn't strong enough to live. So I put the egg back, and resumed my anxious vigil.

Once night fell, Vera was firmly ensconced on the eggs. Even Hoppy fell silent for a bit. Deciding what would be would be, I distracted myself for a couple of hours. When I couldn't keep away any more, I went out with my torch for a peep. I found Vera undulating. There was obviously great activity going on beneath her wings. Spotting the end of an egg peeking out from under her, I lifted her wing to get a closer look. And that's when I realised that the visible egg was just shell. Investigating a little further, I discovered a newly hatched, panting serama chick. Well, it's bum anyway. Hoppy was sat on it's head.

This morning, I went out to check on my little serama family. The new chick was mostly dry but noticably weaker than Hoppy. This might just be because it's two days behind it's nest mate, so hopefully it will catch up. However, Vera is no longer sitting in the nest. She has decamped to the food area, and this worries me a little. The new chick really needs her to stay sat so it can keep warm, but she's running about after it's bigger, louder nest mate. I found the new chick on it's back earlier in the chick crumb, cheeping pitifully. I rescued it and Vera watched me carefully while stuffing her face. I can't blame her, she has been sat for nearly four weeks and has lost weight. She needs to feed herself up. Hoppy is now old enough to follow her around also scoffing, but the new chick was getting left behind. Worried it would get cold, I did the only thing I could think of. Please don't judge me, reader. I stuck the chick down my top. Vera finished her meal keeping her beady eye on my cheeping cleavage, and then after a minute or two loudly demanded her baby back. I returned it to her, and she sat tucking one chick under each wing. I will keep a close eye on her.

Sadly, I do think that one of the other eggs had signs of life first thing this morning. I think I heard some tapping. But Vera has decided enough is enough, and she now has her wings quite literally full. When I last went out, the eggs in the nest were cold and there was no sign of life. I suspect that the three eggs contain dead chicks, as serama are known for dying in the shell. I can't bring myself to open them, but nor can I throw them away. Soft hearted as I am, I think I will bury them. I started this experiment with twelve eggs, and it has ended with two live hatches. Considering everything that was against me, I am quite pleased with that.

I removed Hoppy's shoe this morning. His two outer toes are now in the correct position, but his middle toe is bent to the left like a banana. It doesn't seem to be troubling him judging by how fast he can scuttle, so I'm not overly worried at this stage. The other chick's feet look normal.

Now I just have to wait and see what flavour they are.