Like Three Seasons in One Day

There have been many changes since I posted last, so here's the past 10 months in a rather large nutshell...

The bad news first: Sara Fezziwig Chicken passed away quite suddenly on September 1st; the temperature had climbed into the 90s, and she apparently died of heat stroke. It was quite a shock to find our beautiful golden queen chicken lifeless on the ground. Sara wasn't even 3 1/2 years old, but chickens who are raised for meat or eggs are sent to slaughter much earlier than that, at about a year and a half. Sara had the longest, happiest life we could possibly give her. We're so grateful she had one more summer with the run of the backyard, after her long winter spent indoors in 2010-11, when her best entertainment was chasing raisins, ripping into bunches of kale we hung up for her, visiting the rabbits, or pecking playfully at Sergei's toes. Here's Sara and her sister Sophia, at 10 months, on a beautiful March day in 2009.

In October, cancer with a small "c," a basal cell carcinoma, was removed from my face. That's the type of skin cancer that kills practically no one as long as it's caught early, and mine was. They took it off, and that's the end of that!

Then on April 11th, we lost our little Natasha kitty to kidney problems. Steve adopted her at age 6 months or so in 1997, so she was at least 15 years old. A week before, Tashi was still racing around the backyard at top speed. Even if she spent most of the rest of her time curled in her heated bed, she was only very ill for the last few days of her life. We keep trying to remember what a long and happy life she had.

We miss Tasha terribly, and so does Sergei, who now sleeps with us every night, right up on our pillows. Very cozy and warm on cool nights. Another change has been that, in January, Steve's cousin Matt moved to North Carolina. It's been quite an adjustment not having him around any more after ten years, but he's glad to be back in those beautiful mountains. Here's Matt with Sergei perched on his shoulders, since there's no pillow available!

Charm and Peridot are doing well, snuggling together, merrily digging at old phonebooks, nibbling paper in their tube, and arguing over barley biscuit treats.

Peridot

Charm










They very much enjoying being petted. Some rabbits like being held, some don't, and while both Charm and Peridot like being held and cuddled, they're terrified when they sense I'm trying to pick them up, and race away. Problem is, rabbits need their nails cut every 3-4 months, so it's something that I must keep working on. And get help with their nails in the meantime. Every time I start to get discouraged about this, I remind myself that my knees actually have calluses from being on the floor with them so much!

Here's Carlie, who now shares the coop and yard with Anne and Emily; she looks much like June, but has a completely different personality. We call her our little aviator---Carlie's always looking up and flies to get where she's going at every opportunity---and she's a big talker, and has more than once been the first to sound the alarm at the sight of a hawk.

Our 50,000 bee girls and boys survived the winter very well, and Steve has been successfully treating them for mites, so they are healthy. About month ago, they swarmed, but Steve successfully coaxed the swarm into sticking around our yard, so we now have two hives.

Steve's mom and my stepfather Andy are doing okay, facing health issues that being in your 80s bring. Old age is not for sissies, as someone has noted, and they're both proving that. I don't believe I've ever posted photos of the cats that my mother rescued from the streets of Omaha, and who have now followed her over the bridge: Bonzi, Chatty, and Roo.

So many things have happened this year, we've had a hard time keeping up with it all. After the long, hard winter in the house without chicken friends after June and Rose passed away, Sara now has new companions, Emily and Anne Bronte, named after my beloved Bronte sisters. They came from Heartland Farm Sanctuary, which had just rescued ten hens when a man who'd kept chickens as companions for years was forced to give them up due to illness.
Emily, who looks part condor and sounds like a guinea hen) quickly became Sara's "second in command," but she's much more timid than her sister, Anne, who is very friendly and curious about any type of human activity. Both Emily and Anne have become much less shy of humans since they arrived in late March. All three girls accompany us around the yard while we search the grapes, hazelnuts and willows for Japanese beetles for them, and the rest of the time, enjoy their fruit and veggie treats and the yard's many plants and bugs. (Fallen raspberries and chickweed blossoms, yum!!) They love to explore their yard and dustbathe in the sun. When it's too hot, they hide in the raspberry bushes. All three are full of life and ready to enjoy all the pleasures their world has to offer them.

Looks like we traded Charm and Peridot in on a pair of rare Siamese twin rabbits, doesn't it? Our little moon rabbits are doing well, love each other dearly, and are teaching us patience and the ways of the rabbit. Pinecone bowling is a favorite pasttime. (Gotta get a video of that!)

On a very hot day in late May, there was a block party on our street for the first time since we moved here in 2003, with the youngest attendee, Zoe at age 2 months, and the oldest, Dave at...well, he's retired, anyway! It was great to hang out with all our neighbors and get to meet new ones, too. The first "Bike the Drive" of the year was a great success, again. Some of the biggest streets in Madison were closed to motor traffic, and we joined friends Jenny, Chandi, Terese, Rob, Kenny and Steve's cousin Matt with thousands of others, riding our bikes for several hours on another very hot day on downtown streets that are normally full of cars. Picking flowers from the median of a 45 mph semi-highway---FUN! From there, we headed back to our own neighborhood to "Boombox the Wasteland," a sort of reclaiming event for some industrial and commercial land that was cleared for "development" but has stood idle for years now. WORT 89.9FM broadcast the event live all afternoon, and the hundreds of boomboxes folks brought along sang out while we danced, mingled and shared free food and created spray-paint artwork together. Naturally, we brought our solar-powered boombox!
In late July, Steve installed a beautiful, energy-efficient front door (our old one was leaking air badly) that he got for $70 because it had a "ding" in it And we travelled to Omaha to see Andy and attend a Briggs family reunion up in Walthill, hosted by my sweet, smart cousin Christine and her equally wonderful husband Doug. (The best photo of the reunion, unfortunately, is of the oldest member of the family, this old Model A---or was it T?---circa 1935, that Doug still drives in parades!)







Never seen the Missouri River in flood stage like it is now! Andy and I are standing at what *shouldn't* be the river's edge, looking at what is usually the patio seating at the boathouse bar/restaurant where he hangs out with his friend Jim. (Jim's motorcycle is almost as cool as Andy's, which is gold instead of burgundy.) Andy and Jim rode up to Storm Lake, Iowa, a few hundred mile round trip, just a few weeks before this---and Andy will be 87 in November!













Friends Frances and Alan generously put us up in their beautiful cohousing home while were there, and we even got to join them for a (nearly vegan) dinner they hosted for some of new UU friends, who are now our friends, too.









The protests continue, of course, although the crowds and frequency have dwindled. We attend the Singalongs at the Capitol as often as we can, and Steve has helped with phone calls, while our friends Susan, Bryan and Linda have travelled around the state going door-to-door. It's far from over, and we're in it for the long haul.

And here's our backyard's newest resident, sleeping in a shady, cool spot on top of the rain barrel!

Charm and Peridot Are Here!

We adopted Charm (on the left) and Peridot from the Humane Society the day before New Year's Eve. Seemed like it would be better to have more than one rabbit, and we were really lucky to find such a closely bonded pair. No need to see how they get along---they already love each other! Peridot is Charm's son, and he was just born on August 5th, thus his nickname, for the birthstone of August. That's also Steve's birthstone. The Humane Society staff weren't sure how old Charm is, since she was a stray, but she seems young. We had also met Opal and Gem, another son and daughter of Charm's (she had four babies, though, and we don't know what the other one's name was), but before we could make up our minds, Opal and Gem were adopted, which was actually great news! As an adolescent, Peridot is very active, more so than Charm, and more of a chewer than he hopefully will be as he gets older. The upholstered blue chair that was in the study had to be removed since he found it tasty (the upholstery itself, not the wood). They spend any hours that we are at work or asleep their very large cage, and are out the rest of the time. They snuggle quite alot and groom each other. Of course, they are both fixed, so there's no worrying about baby bunnies.

Can't tell yet if they are going to be more friendly as they get to know us better, never having had rabbits before. They are so different from cats! You can't just scoop them up and cuddle them, or expect them to come and lie on your lap, either. We haven't even tried to pick them up yet. They don't mind us petting them, but not for very long, and they seem scared sometimes, when we do pet them, so we don't push the issue. So far, they just want to hang out in their one room, the study, which is now half theirs. In our small house, this is quite a bit of space to give up, especially since Sara is still inside in our living room until spring, but eventually, they will come out into the rest of the house, and then we can use the study for other pursuits again. (I guess the blue chair will have to go, though!)


We have found that they both love apples, hay and pellets, but neither of them is that crazy about vegetables. One night, they will eat whatever I put down, and then the next, they ignore it. Kale is not acceptable, ever. Cilantro and red leaf lettuce, sometimes. Dandelion greens and carrot greens are acceptable half the time. Cannned pumpkin was nixed. Carrots are okay sometimes---so much for that stereotyp! Basil is a favorite, but after I gave them about half of Steve's frozen-fresh basil he grew this summer, he put the kibosh on that, and I haven't yet seen any at the co-op. We'll be able to grow them anything pretty soon, but spring is a long way away. Still, despite the fact that we're feeding them greens in the middle of winter that came from who-knows-where, in some cases, feeding them is still using fewer resources than feeding our cats meat, local or otherwise. Charm and Peridot are pretty good about using their litterbox, or at least just the cage.

Red-eyed rabbits are harder to adopt out, we've been told, because some people are freaked out by those eyes, and at first, we thought we might be, too. But we pretty quickly started to think that they are actually pretty interesting, just different. Both these little ones definitely have as much expression in their eyes as any other creature we've known. Their red eyes aren't exactly the same, either. Charm is so cute; she looks like a koala, with her dark brown nose and moustache. Peridot's father must have been a larger rabbit; his head is larger and even his face is shaped differently than his mother's. He loves his set of hard plastic baby keys, and tosses them around a bit. He's more of a chewer, and Charm is more of a digger, but they both love gnawing on the willow twigs Steve tromped out into the snow to cut for them, and they demolished a basket we gave them in a few days. Their tunnel is a big favorite, too. (I'll post photos of that, too, once I get some good ones.)

Natasha, unfortunately, is terrified of them, even after a month, but Sergei doesn't mind them at all. They haven't really realized Sara is in the next room yet; they can probably see and hear her, but don't seem curious yet, anyway. We're really hoping that Tasha will get over her fear of them, soon, because the study used to be her favorite room. Here's Sergei not minding Sara checking out the living room. He's such a sweet, mellow boy.

Goodbye to our Sleepy-Eyed Rose (March 22, 2007 - January 21, 2011)

Losing June last November was difficult, but we certainly didn't expect that we'd be going through this again less than three months later. Our other little red hen, Rose passed away Friday morning. She would have been four years old in March. Rose died of the same infection that took her sister June. So-called "laying" hens are prone to uterine prolapse since they are bred for maximum egg production, but the vet told us these Fallopian tube infections are also pretty common among chickens, too. Last spring, Rose was showing symptoms, but antibiotic treatment was successful, so that she was strong and vital all summer and through the winter holidays. This time, though, the medicines that we gave her after bringing her and Sara inside our warm house weren't enough.

Rose was Sleepy-Eyed Rose sometimes because her right eye was often not quite open. Like all of our chickens, she quickly learned to recognize us and our voices and her own name, or names, I should say, because we called June "Moon in June," and Sara is sometimes Sara Sarasen (for no particular reason), but Rose had several names, responding to Rose-is-Rose, Rosalinda, and Rosie, as well as Sleepy-Eyed Rose, by cocking her head, chittering and twirping.

Rose's favorite treats, bar none, were bread and tomatoes; she would pick those out of a dozen other treats and race off to gobble them down. No piece of bread was too large for Rose, and two weeks before she died, she made her last little flight from the top of the ladder in the coop to get some bread that she saw in my hand. She also loved raspberries, sunflower seeds and kale. As the omega chicken, i.e., third in line out of three, Rose knew her place, and accepted it humbly. June was always her good buddy. Chickens maintain a social order in which every member of the flock has a place and finds a place. At night, Rose and June roosted together on a shelf up in the coop's heated bedroom, and Sara took the perch. These groupings were somewhat, but by no means, rigidly territorial, and they shared the yard the same way. The day's chosen dustbathing spot was first used by Sara, and then Rose and June would roll ecstatically together, sometimes on their backs, pecking at bugs in the dirt, and raking in particles of earth with their beaks. Having come from to us originally from a rather barren coop without hay, and with only a packed, bare dirt run to explore, it was maybe the first chance they had ever had to search for bugs and eat green plants. They would all bask in the sun, their eyes closed, and stretch out their legs, obviously relishing their freedom. Rose and June enjoyed being together, and they would sometimes preen each other.Rose was usually the first one to notice anything out of the ordinary in the yard, and was the first at the door of the coop to come outside, often jumping up several feet into the air and excitedly flapping her wings. Always shy, perhaps due to rough handling, perhaps just due to her own inherent personality, Rose was bolder with June at her side. I will never forget the sight of Rose and June running towards us through the muddy yard with boots of mud clinging to their feet so that they rocked from side to side and lifted their feet extra high.

Karen Davis of United Poultry Concerns writes, "If there is one trait above all that leaps to my mind in thinking about chickens when they are enjoying their lives and pursuing their own interests, it is cheerfulness. Chickens are cheerful birds, quite vocally so, and when they are dispirited and oppressed, their entire being expresses this state of affairs as well. The fact that chickens become lethargic in continuously barren environments, instead of proving that they are stupid or impassive by nature, shows how sensitive these birds are to their surroundings, deprivations and prospects. Likewise, when chickens are happy, their sense of wellbeing resonates unmistakably."

Rest in peace, Rose, cheerful, shy, sensitive girl. We love you, and will always miss you.

In Memoriam: June Chicken (March 22, 2007 - November 5, 2010)

When we lost our hen Sophia in March of 2009, we were desperate to find hen friends to keep Sara company, so we were lucky to find a couple who were willing to give us two of their two-year old chickens, June and her sister Rose. It was clear that they had no plans to keep any of their chickens much longer, since they had stopped laying regularly, so we know that we'd rescued June and Rose from the slaughterhouse. We knew we could give them a better life, and happily welcomed June and Rose into our family.

June learned to trust us. Shy and nervous when she arrived, she grew into a friendly and affectionate little red hen, the most outgoing of the three sisters. Accepting her role as second in the pecking order, she always seemed to enjoy her life here. She spent her days with Rose and Sara, either in the coop (when snow made it unappealing to them to go out) or roaming the backyard in their large tractor---we move it several times a day and let them out of it as much as we can without exposing them to hawk attacks. (There are LOTS of hawks around here, and as readers of this blog know, we nearly lost Sara to an attack last year.) June was especially fond of dustbathing, and loved to race around the backyard. She loved grated apples and any kind of berry, and sunflower seeds were a favorite, too. When she scampered across the yard and scratched excitedly in the dirt, June reminded us that chickens want only to live safe, peaceful and unrestricted lives, just as we do. Every chicken deserves to live the life June did.

Bird Brain is a Compliment

After reading this on goveg.com's "Top 10 Reasons Not to Eat Chickens"...

"Several recent studies have shown that chickens are bright animals, able to solve complex problems, demonstrate self-control, and worry about the future. Chickens are smarter than cats or dogs and even do some things that have not yet been seen in mammals other than primates. Dr. Chris Evans, who studies animal behavior and communication at Macquarie University in Australia, says, “As a trick at conferences, I sometimes list these attributes, without mentioning chickens, and people think I’m talking about monkeys.” Dr. John Webster of Bristol University found that chickens are capable of understanding cause and effect and that when chickens learn something new, they pass on that knowledge (i.e., they have what scientists call “culture”). How does your IQ compare to that of a chicken?"

...I decided to try one of the experiments (from the page in the "How does your IQ compare..." link). After all, every time we ask Rose, June and Sarah who the president of the United States is, they answer correctly, with a prolonged "Barrrrrraaaack!" Actually, it's usually June who answers; she's the most vocal, or perhaps just the most political-minded. But I digress...

At any rate, I discovered that our chickens are indeed able to understand that objects still exist even after they are hidden or removed from view, a level of cognition that is actually beyond the capacity of small human children. Bringing the much-beloved tomatoes-and-brown rice treat out to the backyard, I showed Sarah and Rose the food---June was clucking quietly to herself up in the nest box, and thus unavailable---and let them have a little bit, and then hid it away behind a stump. They looked at me for a moment, and then proceeded to ignore me. Sarah started pecking around in the grass for bugs, and Rose began preening herself. But when I tried it a second time, they knew I still had the food! "Look, empty hands," I told them, and busied myself with other things. Nothing doing---weren't forgetting about those luscious bits of August juicy tomato-soaked rice. Of course, I rewarded them with the food. They definitely knew that food was still around.

(Here's a picture of Sarah looking very skeptical, as she often does.)

Here is something else the girls would no doubt like to eat, but can't, as it's up too high for them to reach: a monarch butterfly caterpillar...and the chrysalis that it (or one of its many siblings) formed, hanging on one of the swamp milkweed plants in the backyard.

Be a Chicken Advocate: The Backyard Chicken Movement

So many people are excited when they hear that we have chickens, and say, "I want to get chickens, too!" After I tell them about what it's really like to have chickens, they aren't always as enthusiastic. The plain fact is chickens poop alot, and they can be a bit noisy. They also require alot of care---it's not like you can just go away and leave them for a weekend, and they need interesting things to do, especially in the wintertime. They need to get out of their coop and scratch around in real dirt, and that means they will eat most anything that they can get to that you've got growing in the ground. Most vets don't know much about chickens, also, so yours might not live very long. So it's not something I recommend to anyone who doesn't really care deeply about chickens. Of course, if someone wants to get them just for eggs or to kill them to eat them, I don't recommend it.

As interest in "urban farming" spreads across the U.S. many cities are considering letting residents keep backyard flocks of chickens. This can present opportunities for people to learn about chickens and other domestic fowl, but also presents challenges regarding the quality of their care and will likely lead to a huge increase in abandoned birds at local shelters. Many urban centers tolerates wanton breeding, swapping, and backyard slaughter, all of which are being actively promoted by many urban farming enthusiasts. Chicken Run Rescue (CRR) encourages animal advocates to take an active role in advocating for chickens and other domestic fowl as this trend continues. Here's what you can do:

* If you live in Minnesota, sign up as a foster or volunteer with CRR to help care for chickens, consider adopting birds who need homes, and apply for chicken permits. (If you're not a Minnesota resident, contact CRR for more information on groups in your state.)

* Become involved in local policy development and standards of care. Lobby for education requirements for permit applicants. Work to ensure that backyard slaughter is prohibited in your city.

* Advocate for roosters - 50% of hatched chicks are roosters and they are killed outright, abandoned, or sold to slaughter. Oppose limits and bans on roosters.

Every year, domestic fowl, mostly chickens, are impounded by urban Animal Control. These birds are victims of neglect, abuse and abandonment, sometimes used as a source of eggs or intended for slaughter, fighting or ritual sacrifice. Some are the discarded outcome of "nature lessons" for children or after a hobby that no longer holds interest. Don't breed or buy- Adopt! There are never enough homes for displaced animals.

I've always been a big fan of "This American Life" and its producer, Ira Glass, so it was great to find this video, where Ira Glass talks with TV host David Letterman about Chickens and why he (Ira) doesn't eat them anymore!
Ira Glass and David Letterman Talk About Chickens

Rose and June set up coop-keeping with Sara---and a Hawk Attack

Happy Ostara/Easter/Passover/whatever holiday you may celebrate! We're just relieved that Sara is still here to play her part in the Easter animal parade (figuratively speaking, of course). Yesterday, this red-tailed hawk attacked Sara, and although we're still not entirely sure why, it seems to have been scared off when we heard the terrible commotion, and came outside. (Either that, or Sara fought back?) The hawk didn't go far, though---just flew up to the top of what's left of our silver maple (maybe 14 feet high?), and didn't even flinch when Steve tossed sticks up in that direction to try to spook it. S/he still was eyeing up Rose and June, who had wisely taken refuge under a forsythia bush.


Sara lost quite a few feathers in the attack---the hawk seems to have been systematically plucking her right underwing---and she was pretty shaken up at first, but now she seems otherwise okay.


There's a nick in her skin from the plucking (it hurts to even think about it!) but she didn't bleed, thankfully, and her feathers will come in again. Lesson learned by the humaniamals. Even in the city, hawks are hungry. So the days of our chickens wandering freely around the backyard are over. Their coop is plenty big for the three of them, of course. Still, we hate the idea of keeping them in a cage, even if it is one that's roomy and moveable, as their "chicken tractor" will be. We need to keep them safe, but it does make you think about what it means to keep what is essentially a prey animal safe from predators in the outdoors...

Otherwise, Rose and June have been settling in nicely to their new living situation with Sara. Sara's still boss chicken, and Rose, who is smaller, doesn't get as much of whatever there is to get, but...she has a secret treat source that Sara and June don't know about! Steve cut back the wild grape vine, and showed it to her, so now she drinks the sap that drips from it, as you can see from the photo.
It's still pretty brown and bare here in south central Wisconsin; we're just south of the north woods, after all. It sure will be nice when more greenery emerges. Things have at least dried out a little, though, the chickens can enjoy dust baths, and they aren't wearing boots of mud. (Wish we had a photo of that to post, because they look really funny running towards you with their mud "clodhoppers"! Next time it rains, maybe...)



Crocuses are coming up, though...

The Story of Sophia: The Luckiest Chicken in the World

We lost our little "yellow bird," last Thursday, March 19th. Sophia (full name: Sophia Fezziwig Chicken) was always enthusiastic, always the first one out of the coop in the morning, chirping and clucking, She never slowed down until sundown told her it was time to go up to roost. That day was no exception. When I went out in the backyard to check on them in early in the afternoon, though, Sophia couldn't stand on her own, and while she didn't appear to be in any pain, she wouldn't eat even her favorite noodles nor drink any water. The kind veterinarian at the Emergency Clinic for Animals was unable to save her, and she passed away that evening.

The vet is still trying to figure out exactly what happened, because their grain mix (18 different grains!) is 18% protein---the % that our research indicated was appropriate---but the condition of Sophia's liver seems to indicate she was eating too much protein. Why is now the question. Moreover, she also may have died from that problem, plus a birth defect, as well as an acute condition such as having eaten moldy birdseed from the outdoor birdfeeder, or even from the supply in the coop. The small container in the coop that they ate from had probably not gotten eaten down to the bottom during the winter, and just a few days before, it had gotten knocked over. She might have eaten the feed that was at the bottom, which may have grown aflatoxin (which is about as dangerous as it sounds, both to chickens and humans). In other words, it might have been our fault that she died. Needless to say, we want to do everything we can to fix the problem, and make sure it doesn't happen again; we've moved the coop and cleaned everything, taken away the birdfeeder, swept up all the old grain, etc. Sara seems to be fine, but is now on a special diet---cooked brown rice, leafy greens and veggies and fruits only---and upon the advice of the vet, we'll be giving her milk thistle tincture to cleanse her liver, just in case.

The three nights that Sara spent alone were clearly distressing ones for her. During the day, she spent much of her time standing under the rosebush in the corner, not doing much, and sought us out whenever she could; she also didn't want to go in the coop at night. The second evening, I was sitting with her for a bit, and she jumped up on my lap, something she'd never done before---never being as affectionate as Sophia---and then started climbing up onto my shoulder and head. I realized that this was like what she used to do with Sophia, when the two of them would scramble over one another in bedding down for the night, deciding who was going to get comfortable. Clearly, we needed to find Sara more hen sisters, and fast!

Happily, yesterday some generous folks who had more chickens than they needed gave us two Rhode Island Red hens, 2 year-olds. These folks hadn't named their chickens; it feels funny not to call them something, but we're waiting to see what they're like first. Both are somewhat shy and nervous. They're almost identical in appearance, a beautiful deep red chestnut brown color, but the larger hen has a black feather in her tail and is a little bolder, and the other has lighter colored feathers at the ends of her wings, and is the shyer of the two. Unlike Sara and Sophia (Aracauna chickens), they have big, floppy combs and full wattles, and their combs are different, too. They cluck softly when interested in something, becoming much more vocal when they're confused or afraid. The bigger hen and Sara tangled at first, which is normal, (if worrisome to watch. Eventually, Sara asserted herself as queen of the coop. (It was the same with Sophia and Sara---Sara was top chicken.) It looks like they're all going to get along fine, now that the pecking order has been established. Best of all, after they all went up into the coop last night, Sara was singing, which she hadn't done since before Sophia died.

We'll always miss our cute, curious little girl, who trusted people and always wanted to be picked up and petted by everyone she met, but it helps to remember that Sophia was one very lucky little chicken. A million chickens are killed every hour in the U.S. alone. We were very lucky to have known her.

The Amazing Poultry Sisters

AKA Sophia and Sara Fezziwig Chicken (L to R). (I gave them the middle name of Fezziwig because they have what look like sideburns, reminiscent of the character Fezziwig in Charles Dickens' "A Christmas Carol.") Here they are in August, at about three and a half months, perching on our back porch railing, hoping for special treats before bedtime. Little blue eggs appear in their nest box every other day or so. (Sophie was the first to lay, back in early November.) What are vegans doing with chickens and eggs?! (You might be wondering.) Even though we don't believe that humans need to eat animal products to be healthy, we have eaten a few eggs from time to time from my (vegetarian) sister-in-law's rescued chickens. When we started getting involved in and learning more about sustainability and permaculture, keeping chickens for eggs became a question for us since eggs are one way of getting protein without wasting alot of resources to do it. We still aren't entirely comfortable with it. But most vegans were vegetarians first, and we do plan to sell some of the eggs. If folks are transitioning from veggie to vegan, or even if they never even go veggie, better that they eat eggs than "meat," and better that they get those eggs from chickens who are treated well in every way, and who will never be slaughtered, whether they are laying or not.




Now that it's winter, Sara and Sophia live in a wonderfully snug coop that Steve built for them, where they can go out into an enclosed space during the day, and peck at their head of cabbage, as well as other morsels (soy okara, rice, tomatoes, plums, any kind of greens, and tempeh are favorites). They can go back up into their loft bedroom any time they want, where they have a heater. The temperature is easily monitored indoors, and if it starts getting too cold out there, we heat up big cans of water (empty olive oil cans) in the oven for them.

Their personalities are so different---Sara is the leader, but Sophia is more outgoing. Where Sara holds back, Sophie rushes in enthusiastically. For months, they were wild for worms, and would rush to wherever Steve was digging in his gardening to look for them. By the time fall came, they were less interested in worms, though, maybe knowing their protein needs had changed? They're very happy girls, and love to be held and scritched around their neck feathers.