First Eggs

I had just resolved myself to being satisfied with just having pet chickens when to my great surprise I found our first eggs while tidying up the chicken habitat tonight.

It was just after dusk, having returned from our post Weight Watchers dinner out with my parents, I was going through my evening routine of feeding, cleaning up various varieties of poop and settling everyone in for the night. While I had made time to get the newspaper pellets for the rabbit’s litter, I have yet to remember to get the wood pellets from the lumberyard, which according to Urbanchicken.com, make some sort of magic base for a stink free composting chicken floor. While skeptical about the author’s claim of only semi-annual cleaning, I do think that this material may well suited and of course is far less expensive than the material I am using for BB and GB. I had intended to procrastinate on cleaning out the “coop” , which nothing more than an old dog crate filled with local hay and two small litter boxes likewise filled for nests, until the proper material was procured. But my compulsiveness required at least a minimal effort and some straightening up.

I found the boxes a bit askew, and as I pulled them back to position the larger of the two eggs was readily visible. This prompted further search which revealed the second, buried behind in the hay floor. The hens sat above my head on top of the box, patiently observing me but making no motion. I carefully carried my treasure into the house and deposited them on the counter. I returned to find my wards contently snaking on a few greens I left behind. The girls obviously wary from their day’s efforts seemed eager to go to bed and only TC gave a lighthearted squawk as she hopped from my grip and into the crate.

Despite recently receiving an unsolicited opinion that “chickens don’t drink water at night”, I fashioned new water and food dishes that attached to the crate door, hoping to preserve the new paper litter I used to replace the soiled hay as a reward for their efforts. While Red Green may have dust tape, a strong but only temporary connection in almost all circumstances, I use the more technologically advanced and despite common myth, also readily reusable, zip tie. With the careful insertion of the tip of my pocket knife, I frequently save this trusty and most versatile plastic wonder from an unnecessary and unwarranted early destruction in all facets of daily life. Find yourself a little short? Connect two or more into a plastic chain that can bind a tarp, hold up your pants or keep your fender from flapping in the wind.

Feeling that I had made a good effort to comfort my now egg producing hens I left them in peace in hopes a that this marks a strong and steady production of eggs for some time to come. I returned to the house to find that Jamie had already placed them in a carton and prominently displayed them on the kitchen table. Eager to share my success I dialed Katelyn and described our yield in detail to which she responded by assuring me that “the big one is for you and the small one is for Aunt Jamie”.

Unfortunately all this success and revelry is not without consequence. Jealous of the chickens, the rabbits have begun acting out, chewing on the new mdf trim in the basement . This has brought great wrath from Jamie, their former supporter and friend who is now suggesting that they may need to move outdoors and is thus proposing some sort of conglomerate chicken / rabbit duplex enclosure in the new barn yard. Although he feigns a look of concern, Shorty takes no real action, merely lazily watching them perform this gratuitous act of defiance without so much a nudge or bark to scold them. Thus I am left to be their sole disciplinarian as well as defender. I am going to first try a squirt bottle in an effort to deter them and may also try to install some clear plastic corners over the edges, although some have expressed concern regards aesthetics.

So while chicken is off the menu, I fear that rabbit stew may not. My hope is that this phase will pass or maybe I can call on the rabbit whisperer to reason with them.

New Arrivals

In anticipation of omelets everyday, Katelyn ambitiously met me at the door this morning with an empty 18 egg carton. Her silence on the drive to animal services was a clear sign of both her excitement and anxiety for what lay ahead.

Yesterday on my way to Aberdeen I absentmindedly answered my cell phone, and was instantly confused by the woman on the other end. She said she was with animal services. I paused to look over my shoulder to see if Shorty was still behind the seat in his usual “dead dog” position. There he was.

Could it be Nick’s dog Sarah? Had she run off again and somehow I had become one of her emergency contacts (yes I know that sounds insane, “oh please don’t call my parents, there not home, call my friend Shorty’s dad, he will bail me out”)? Certainly the days of the bark complaints had gone to the grave with both Ryder and our neighbor George, who both died of cancer within a year of each other. Plus Shorty had been on vacation the past few days and hadn’t spent a moment home alone in almost a week.

So in the sort of broken, “huh did you say fricken’?” kind conversation we all now enjoy with this "new hands free, still ok to be mentally oblivious statute", I eventually comprehended what she was trying to convey to me.

It all began very innocently after the death of both Ryder and Miles in the fall of 2006. While at the shelter donating some of our remaining dog food, misc. medications and some odds and ends left over from Kay’s cat Lucky, I inquired about their signup sheet for dogs. Jamie of course was still partial to the Border Collies but somehow Corgis were also being given consideration. I always thought them an odd sort, but after seeing a PBS special on the Queen and her own pack of this stubbed off breed, I figured if they are good enough for her, fine by me. So on the list for dogs our names went, with our specific requests noted.

But my curiosity was not yet curbed and so I began to investigate what else I could request. Goats, donkeys, pigs and sheep all have their appeal, but I felt that I might be mocked at Slater Stables if I showed up with any of these looking for another stall to rent. My family and long time friends know I have had rabbits and a rooster as pets and so they seemed ideal choices based on experience as well as our current living conditions.

So like a TLC series we first adopted GB and BB. Then Shorty. And now I was on my way to add two more to the roster.

As we pulled in to the parking lot Katelyn asked if Shorty could come in. With very little effort I convinced her that he would prefer to just wait this one out in the truck and was grateful that I did not have to give the shelter and overly negative connotation by using the term “doggy jail”.

We waited only moments and then were called to the counter where I enthusiastically announced our intentions to pick up the chickens. Trying not to be too rash, and affirm that I was committed, I asked if we could first see them. With some hesitation it was indicated that it was possible, but we were offered some pictures which they hoped might suffice. I was skeptical at first, but as you can all see, these gals are very photogenic and thus I relieved us all of my earlier request and accepted them without further inspection.

I filled out the endless pre adoption questionnaire, which is an earnest attempt in the animals’ interest to keep the ignorant and irresponsible from taking home a pet they cannot accommodate or know where to keep (that was how Shorty came our way). When I came to the questions about how many pet’s you have had in the last 5 years and what became of them, I had to fight the urge to comically write “BBQ”. But my professionalism prevailed and I rendered my $6 in adoption fees and was handed two cardboard carriers.

Katelyn eagerly took her charge , I mine, and out the door we went. We loaded the boxes into a large hay filled dog kennel in the back of the truck and then proceeded on to our next stop; the feed store.

At the feed store we quickly parlayed our $6 bargain into a $60 credit card receipt as we procured feed (organic of course), oyster shell, feeder and water dispenser. Katelyn assured me that the chickens would also need some special bird toys, but I convinced her that they would love our own hand made versions just as much as any store bought chicken toy, even though I am still unsure just what is considered “chicken appropriate”.

As we left the lot I went a little too speedily over the speed bumps and got nothing more than a skeptical glance when I said “looks like we will be getting scrambled eggs this week”. Unwilling to succumb to tall tales, Katelyn turned her focus to Shorty for more intelligent conversation on his new chicken friends and their plans when they arrive home.

After a brief stop at the bakery for nourishment we backed the truck up to the rear gate of the dog yard. After a lot of fussing, assembly and re arranging we were finally ready for the big moment. Already showing partiality for the lighter colored of the two, Katelyn selected her box and joined me in the newly converted dog kennel and we closed the door. As we opened the tops our new friends just stared up at us. I grabbed the red and she graciously let me lift her out. I tried to guide Katelyn to do the same, but at the last moment and showing good judgment, she left the task for me. Being an experienced hand, I had no real troubles but there was a bit of squawking and flapping.

We watched them for a moment and then closed the gate behind us as Katelyn rushed to get Shorty out as she assured me that he was eager to meet them. Already rabbit tested, I have no real concerns about Shorty other than his presence might cause the hens undue stress. Although excited, he merely showed genuine interest and trotted around the two accessible side of the kennel, intently observing the two birds. Keeping a polite distance, he kept a watchful eye, but never a bark or any sudden moves which might unduly roust them. And when it was time to go, he left willing to Katelyn’s lead.

As of now the two still remain unnamed. Numerous have been suggested, Chocolate and Sweetie, being repeated numerously as well as some suspiciously masculine names such as George and Roger. As many of you know I try to avoid anything too human as there is nothing more awkward than hosting a BBQ and realizing that some acquaintance or family has brought offspring with the same name as your family pet. However celebrities, politicians and royalty are exempt from this rule and thus this may afford me some relief although with neighbors with so obviously different political concerns than my own, this might also be avoided despite an inclination to name one of them “Madame Gregoire”.

Best Buds

Ten of the many reasons that I'm blessed to have Jame as my best bud:

1. She remembers the face of someone she met five years ago at a party (who doesn't recall meeting her).
2. She's wonderful to talk to about anything at all.
3. We have similar taste in food and beverages, hmm... clothes and well, lots of other things.
4. Our 26-years of history means I sometimes even forget things we've done (and like Jamie, I have a freakishly good memory) but she remembers the things I've forgotton, and vice versa.
5. We do new stuff. Like she introduced me to the Lemon Drop Martini not that long ago.
6. She loves my kids unconditionally, and is marvelous with them. She loves Joel too, and is good at arguing with and teasing him.
7. She married John, who like all excellent partners, makes her better and stronger. Well, and we all love John too.
8. She and I have made each other better too, and the minor tussles we've had over the years have only made us better friends.
9. Yeah, and she's a kick-ass sous chef to my mess-making self.
10. I don't have a sister, and I sometimes wished I did when I was a kid, but now I'm glad that I don't have another sibling. I've got my Jamie instead, and she's way better.

Three Months Down

I had my three month check up with Dr. Goff on Monday. Everything checked out great. My CA-125 was 10, well within the "normal" range. I had my Mammogram the week prior and all was well with that too. No need to get another for a year!! All you ladies who put that off, don't! Make sure you get checked. Try to get into one of the new digital ones. They don't have to squeeze as hard :)

So I am free for another three months, when I will get another CT Scan, CA-125 test and regular blood counts and of course my ever so favorite "exam"!

For those of you that I haven't told, the women's clinic at the SCCA, has a regular GYN doctor. Her name is Dr. Hipps and she sees "regular" patients. I got my sister to go up and meet her, and she will now be my sister's regular GYN. What's nice is you can have all your stuff done right there--mammogram, blood draws, and anything else they might want to do and with state of the art equipment (ie: the digital mammogram). Well worth the drive once a year!


P.S. I also got my 3rd haircut on Tuesday!!!