Chickens

More On My Husband’s Sex Appeal

Scotteleanor This is for Susan, in response to her comment on the last post.  Here’s my all-time favorite picture of Scott, in which he proves once and for all that he just can’t leave those redheads alone.

Cat Meets Chicken

Dscn10031 Man picks up cat.

Chicken jumps on man.

Cat hides head in man’s arm and moans.

Chicken tries to kiss man.

It’s a typical day in the Stewart/Brown household.

A new hen blog!

Terry Golson, author of the very tempting Farmstead Egg Cookbook, now has a chicken blog that even includes a live ChickenCam.  But it turns out she’s not the only one–she provided a link to an entire collection of HenCams.  So in those rare moments when my own chickens are quiet and off entertaining themselves, I can tune in online.  Watching chickens: this is what the digital revolution has given us.

See Terry’s beautiful blog here: Hen Blog.

Bess is My Emotional Support Chicken

This just in from the New York Times:

“At French Roast on upper Broadway, however, two women sat down to brunch with dogs in tow: a golden retriever and a Yorkie toted in a bag.

They both said that their animals were emotional service dogs,” said Gil Ohana, the manager, explaining why he let them in. “One of them actually carried a doctor’s letter.”

That’s right, folks. People are now getting away with bringing their annoying, yapping little dogs EVERYWHERE with them because they have a doctor’s note. The story continues:

“I had never heard of emotional support animals before,” said Steve Hanson, an owner of 12 restaurants including Blue Fin and Blue Water Grill in Manhattan. “And now all of a sudden in the last several months, we’re hearing this.”

Fortunately, a few people see how silly this is, including this guide dog trainer, who said: “I’ve had teenagers approach me wanting to get their dogs certified. This isn’t cute and is a total insult to the disabled community. They are ruining it for people who need it.”

and a shrink says:

“If a person can’t entertain the idea of going out without an animal, that would suggest an extreme anxiety level,” she said, “and he or she should probably be on medication, in psychotherapy or both.”

And it’s not always dogs.

“These days people rely on a veritable Noah’s Ark of support animals. Tami McLallen, a spokeswoman for American Airlines, said that although dogs are the most common service animals taken onto planes, the airline has had to accommodate monkeys, miniature horses, cats and even an emotional support duck. “Its owner dressed it up in clothes,” she recalled. “

Miniature horses? On a plane? Are you kidding me? Why don’t they choose something small, like an emotional support lizard?

All right, if she gets to have an emotional support duck, I am totally making Bess my emotional support chicken. I need this for my mental health. Just think, fresh eggs everywhere I go.

“Waiter, a martini for me, and some cracked corn for the hen, please.”

Chicken blogging!

I was taking a picture for a post about garden blogging over on Dirt, when the chickens wandered over to see what I’d brought them. Perhaps we should set up an old computer out there in the coop and see what the girls come up with. (Do you suppose they touch type or hunt and peck? Sorry, couldn’t resist.) Posted by Picasa

Women! What do they want?

Scott comes outside and finds himself surrounded by a flock of very demanding girls. Bess, as always, flies right up to his face, just assuming that he’ll hold out an arm as a landing perch about the time she arrives.

In other news…Dolley laid one of those strange shellless eggs the other day. It was just like what happened with Bess. She looked really uncomfortable, would hardly move, and then (not in her nesting box, just out in the garden, which is very unusual) out came this weird thing. It broke on the way out, so first came egg white, then yolk, then this rubbery membrane which Eleanor grabbed in her beak and ran around with in the garden in a sort of victory lap. Scott watched the whole thing and was quite horrified. (we took the rubbery thing away from Eleanor–you do not want chickens to develop a taste for eggs. In fact, they tried to gobble up the bits of white and yolk still on the ground. What were they thinking? “Hey, look what came out of Dolley’s butt. Let’s eat it.”)

Fortunately, Dolley felt better immediately (wouldn’t you?) and went back to laying eggs with shells a day or two later. The only real health risk here would have been if she seemed to still have egg bits inside of her, but fortunately we didn’t have to go exploring–seems like it all came out on its own.

Ah, farm life! Posted by Picasa

Every Day is Respect for Chickens Day Around Here


United Poultry Concerns has declared May 4 International Respect for Chickens Day. I know that their name sounds like the name of some industry puppet group, but in fact, this is a group that advocates for better treatment of chickens even as they are being raised for slaughter. Good people. And here are some random highlights from their press release:

For International Respect for Chickens Day, educators, students, office workers and activists are encouraged to do an ACTION for chickens – everything from showing the movie Chicken Run to setting up a school library display to leafleting on a busy street corner.

A Minneapolis group is holding a Most Beautiful Chicken Photo contest. (No, I could not find it online. Dang.) (Update: Thanks to Molly for this link.)

“Chickens are lively birds who have been torn from the leafy world in which they evolved. We want chickens to be restored to their green world and not be eaten.”

The idea for International Respect for Chickens Day traces to famed Le Show host and star of The Simpsons, Harry Shearer, who proclaimed Sunday, May 14, 2000 – Mother’s Day – National Respect the Chicken Day because hens are justly praised as exemplars of devoted motherhood.

In Letters from an American Farmer, a study of American colonial society published in 1782, St. John de Crevecoeur wrote about chickens, “I never see an egg brought to my table but I feel penetrated with the wonderful change it would have undergone but for my gluttony; it might have been a gentle, useful hen leading her chickens with a care and vigilance which speaks shame to many women. A cock perhaps, arrayed with the most majestic plumes, tender to his mate, bold, courageous, endowed with an astonishing instinct, with thoughts, with memory, and every distinguishing characteristic of the reason of man.”

Chickens are sentient creatures and have feelings of their own.

You’re damn right. Go kiss a chicken, people.

U.S. Newswire : Releases : “International Respect for Chickens Day Celebrates Chickens”

Sign of the Shovel: Peeping Mad

There’s a good discussion going on over at Sign of the Shovel about the noise backyard hens make. I have often wondered if our neighbors were going to get fed up and come knocking on the door. Our girls can get quite riled up just after, and sometimes just before, they lay an egg (wouldn’t you?), and with four of them laying almost every day, it can be noisy.

But I sit still and listen to the sounds of our neighborhood. Sometimes, when I hear the chickens calling at 7 or 8 a.m. (a sign that I need to get up and go let them run around outside), I can hear them for a minute, but then the sound is drowned out by a passing car, a barking dog, or even the cry of a seagull flying overhead. And it is certainly drowned out by a lawn mower, a power tool, a scooter, or any other little motorized gizmo revving up nearby.

And we won’t even mention the loud parties on weekends, especially in the summer, that degenerate into drunken shouting in the streets at 2 a.m. We tolerate it quite gamely, secretly wishing we were invited to the parties, not that we’d really go, and god knows we’d have to bring our own booze–and feeling glad that we are, at the very least, the sort of people who like living in a diverse, interesting, not-too-fancy neighborhood where people can have rowdy parties or, god forbid, lawn mowers.

Sign of the Shovel: Peeping Mad