I admit it. I'm not the world's best photoshopper, but I am determined to have Mango, my English Doodle, fall in love with the chicks. Why? To save lives, the hens lives.
I did discover Mango in the coop one day and no hens were slaughtered. Now, if I can get her used to the chicks.
It's kind of like speed dating. She gets only a few seconds with them and I hang on to her collar. (Disclaimer: No chicks were sacrificed to make this photo.) What I found is that it's not her mouth that I need to worry about but her giant, fluffy paws. She looks like she wants to toss the chicks about with her "mitts."
National Day of the Cowboy credit: Shobe Biz Communications
Who settled the West wasn't businessmen in Armani suits driving red Porsches (not that there's anything wrong with that, but just saying...) It was men and women with a sense of adventure and a physicality that could tame the rugged lands.
And, it was men and women who understood the unwritten code of behavior called the "Code of the West." Cowboys and cowgirls could be outlaws (I happen to be related to one) but they had to play by the code's rules. If they decided to ignore them, they would be shunned as outcasts.
The Code of the West came down to 10 simple rules, rules that pertain to all of us whether we drive cattle with our hands on the reins or drive corporations with our steel fists:
1. Live each day with courage.
2. Take pride in your work.
3. Always finish what you start.
4. Do what has to be done.
5. Be tough, but fair.
6. When you make a promise, keep it.
7. Ride for the brand.
8. Talk less and say more.
9. Remember that some things aren't for sale.
10. Know where to draw the line.
There's a National Day of the Cowboy organization that is dedicated to recognizing the cowboys and cowgirls of this land. Learn more about it at National Day of the Cowboy.
For breathtaking photographs depicting cowboys and cowgirls in their natural environments, view photo artist Adam Jahiels' work at http://www.adamjahiel.com/.
Today, tomorrow, or even the next, go out and hug a cowboy and/or cowgirl. Tell them "thanks" for all of their hard work. And, if ranchers don't reside nearby, hug someone who best represents the 10 values of the Code of the West.
These are the people who work the land and the land works them. It's time we recognize this and honor them.
Warning: Do not randomly stop by your local feed store.
I was meandering around town, working my way through my long list of to-do's, when I decided, on impulse, to stop by the feed store. Our local feed store isn't just any feed store. It has a garden area brimming with organic veggies and herbs; a chicken coop filled with a flock of entertaining chickens; and rare flowers blooming with colors I've never seen. Just walking into the place makes me feel like I've entered a respite safe from the crazy world.
Mango, my English Doodle, was joy riding in my car. True, she wasn't stealing the car but sometimes I feel like she is the way dominates it while I'm driving. She hurdles over the wagon seat into the back seat (even though there's a doggy screen separating the two). She paces on the backseat, back-and-forth, back-and-forth. Then, she pokes her nose between the front seats and looks at me and grins. I swear she does. I can see her face in the rearview mirror. Then, she moseys across the center console, sniffs around for treats--sighs-- and then lays down on the front passenger seat. I've tried reprimanding her on many an occasion, but it doesn't work. I think I need a puppy restraining order.
Even though she's not the best behaved car rider (no Puppy Academy gold star winner here), I stopped in for a doggy treat--something to keep her busy during the car ride.
I was evaluating the store bins of treats and carefully avoiding anything that looked or smelled like chicken, when I heard "peep, peep."
"What's that?" I asked the feed store attendee.
"Chicks."
"Chicks?" I asked. "I thought you were finished getting new chicks."
"No. They're coming in for at least another month," he offered.
"Are these turkeys? The last time they were turkeys."
"No, these are chicks, many of them rare."
Rare. That word for me is like pulling the arm on a slot machine and watching the lights blaze "Win."
"Rare?" I asked, my heart beginning to skip a beat.
I sauntered over to the large wooden "new chick" box and peered in.
"Look," he said, showing me the book of chickens resting on the platform nearby. "Here are pictures of the chickens along with their descriptions. We have Blue Wyandottes, a Blue Cochin . . ."
Hook, line, and sinker, the feed store attendee reeled me in.
"I'll take four," I said, interrupting him.
"Four?" he confirmed.
"No, make that five."
And, that's how I came home with five extra chickens, five chickens which I'll be adding to the 11-gal flock when they are old enough. Sixteen chickens. What was I thinking??
Sometimes I think there's not a peck of sense in this head of mine--
but I do have some beautiful chickens! Just take a look for yourself...
Once a student in engineering in Japan, Takeo Ischi altered his life course by pursuing his music career. Since the days when he was singing in a restaurant in Switzerland, he has had numerous appearances on Japanese and German radio and television stations.
Here is his yodeling ode to the chicken. I would love to get an English translation of the lyrics!
Contenders for America's Next Top Model copyright: N. Shobe
These are the finalists in America's Next Top Chicken Model.
To your left is Cleopatra, a Silver Phoenix. She's of a rare Japanese heritage, tracing her lineage back 1,000 years. She'll end up being a tad, shall we say, high-maintenance once her extra long tail feathers grow in. Reportedly, she's lousy on the production end--she'll lay only one egg per week. (She's still a pullet, so there are no stats yet.)
Rumor has it that Silver Phoenix's aren't friendly, but you can't say that about Cleopatra. She's an absolute darling, strutting her stuff whenever she has an audience. She's a gal who likes to poses. In the morning, she's often caught looking in the mirror, applying additional kohl eyeliner. The other hens swear that Cleopatra channels Elizabeth Taylor during meditation.
And, then, there's Super Swag or Zsa Zsa on her day's off.
The feathery Gold-Laced Polish, Super Swag, sashays her little backend all over the place. Her bouffant hair and her V-shaped comb set her apart from the other gals and she knows it. Primarily used for exhibition, she can't help but steal the spotlight. You'd think she was Polish with the name of her breed, but she's actually from the Netherlands. And, we all know how much American men love Dutch models.
Like all Polish's, she has that perfectly straight back. After the runway, you just know she's perfecting first position. Are the other hens jealous? You'd think they be but Super Swag's finesse seems to naturally fit in. Thank goodness, because rumor has it she has a stinging slap and that she's a serial marry-er -- nine times, in fact, or so we've heard. But, that's between us.
Ironically, these two birds contenders are best of friends, which doesn't often happen with America's top models. They promised me there will be no hurt feelings if you pick one over the other.
Go ahead and cast your vote. Which would you choose?
A grandmother, Debra, wrote in today and said that her granddaughter, Myla, had lost her show chicks due to a barn owl. She said everyone in the family was quite upset.
Myla followed up her grandmother's email with her own. She sent in this picture and wrote:
This is the only pic I have of the two miniature bantams we lost. A barn owl flew into the carport and pulled them out of their cage. They were due to show in October at the Southern California fair. The ones in the background are Americana Cockerels. They are fine in coop with big girls now. The black one was born without a tail but has beautiful plumage. I also lost two Brichen Cochin hens that won 1st and 2nd place last fall. Thank you for kind words. It isn't too late to try for a meat pen and showmanship. I'm not giving up.
Myla, we are all very sorry for your loss. It's such a shock to have chickens taken away so quickly and tragically. You obviously loved and cared for your miniature bantams. It shows. I can only imagine that your two Brichen Cochin hens were just as special and well loved.
"I'm not giving up" are wonderful words. They show courage and strength. You are a young woman who obviously can see the positive in difficult situations and knows how to turn bad things around. These traits will serve you well in life.
I wish you more 1st and 2nd places at future fairs! Go, Myla, go!
I love taking photographs of my eleven "little ones." Like an overzealous grandmother, I constantly have my camera on hand, ready to take a snap. (Now, all I need is a Chicken Brag Book.)
Lately, I've missed out on my chickens time outdoors because by work's end, the girls have roosted.
No more of this, I decided. I want to capture "hens gone wild."
So, tonight, I finished my work a tad early and snuck outside with my Canon.
The girls looked surprised when I showed up. "Hey, it's not the witching hour," they seemed to say. Thinking the early birds might catch the worms, they strode up to me in hopes of getting their evening treat of chicken scratch and peanuts.
I squatted down to get level with their pleading eyes and tilted my camera toward their faces. My own blossoming tail feathers couldn't keep their center and I tipped right over, falling onto a rusty pipe.
Oh, #$4!#!!
My foot bled profusely; I calculated in my head the date of my last tetanus shot.
Then, I stood up, wiped off the dust, and gingerly mosied down the hill to wash and bandage my wound. On my way into the house, I shut the gate that separates the backyard from the hill behind me. Mango, my English Doodle, followed me through the yard and waited for me outside the back door. At least, that's what I thought.
After tending the wound, I walked back outside.
"Mango," I called. "Mango, where are you?" No word. No bark. Not even a rustling sound.
"Mango," I yelled again, my voice pitching higher with worry.
I walked around the back of the house still calling her name and saw the gate's door ajar with just enough squeeze-through room for a four-month old puppy.
Oh, #$4!#!!
Mango was headed up to the coop. I just knew it.
Mango takes morning walks with me, leashed. We always end near the coop where I tie her to the arm of a bench and then conduct my chicken chores. Mango has met the chickens face-to-face many times but only while tethered.
I ran up the hill as fast as I could. (And, boy, did it hurt) Mango was in the coop, just inside the door, quietly scratching the floor. The hens were aflutter. Some were flying, others squawking. All of them looking appropriately displeased.
Mango looked amused, her presence was creating a ruckus.
"Hey, what's up?" her eyes seemed to say when I walked in.
And, then she looked over at the chickens like "And, can you give me a clue what's up with them?"
To my relief, everyone of the 11 was still there, in one piece.
Will Mango's behavior change as she ages? I hope not. But, I don't totally trust her, that's for sure.
Intermixing dogs with chickens can be a grand success or a grand failure. Some dogs are natural predators to chickens. Others could care a less.
Check out this photo on Backyard Chickens that depicts a successful integration. Maybe one day Mango will pose with a hen of mine.
Here are a few of my own tips on canine/fowl integration. I'm not saying this will always work because Mango may just be the type that doesn't want to debut her predatorial side:
#1 When the chicks were new, I introduced Mango to them. In one hand, I held her on the leash. In the other, I held a chick. I let Mango sniff at them, eye them, and acclimate however she wanted. If I felt she was getting too excited, I gave her leash a gentle tug. I introduced each chick one at a time.
#2 I never feed Mango chicken treats. As silly as this seems (and my friend at the feed store got a good chuckle over this), I figure that if you don't feed the dog chicken then it might not kill one. I'm sure there is absolutely NO scientific facts to prove this but it makes me feel better.
#3 I take Mango up to the coop every morning and make her stand with me as I open up the door for the chickens. If she thinks helping with the chickens is one of her jobs, than maybe she won't eat one. That's my thought. Again, no scientific facts to prove it.
For more information on how to train your dog so it won't kill chickens, here's a dated National Geographic video. I'm not 100% sold on this video nor his training techniques, but the video does give some ideas on how to integrate canines with chickens.
