Animal Calculations.

1 Hawk + 41 chickens = 40 chickens.

1 Hawk + 40 chickens + 200 crows = 0 hawk.40 chickens

200 Crows + 1 Fox = 0 Fox.

1 Fox + Unknown Gender = MIA Fox.

Fishing line + Hawk= 0 Hawk.

I always hated Math.

Since Elementary school, I have despised math with a passion. So much so that the very thought of fractions makes me break out in a nervous sweat. And since I'm a girl, and girls don't sweat- you can imagine how nervous I really am. (Girls get dewey, we glisten....we don't sweat.)
So on Sunday, when I was researching hawk behavior, in protection of my feathered 40, I saw that hawks were all part of a greater equation.

I can't believe I just used that word.

Comes to finds out that if you have a hawk around, and you own chickens- once that hawk discovers that the chickens are there, the hawk will pick off the chickens one by one until they are all gone. All that I have read says, that a fake owl, wind chimes, even soft rock music will  not scare a hawk away. They will grow smart to the owl being fake, and the wind chimes, being cliche, and the soft rock being actually tolerable, swoop down and get the girls. But there is a warrior that will help protect the chickens, and that warrior is a crow.

Now I have mentioned before that we are surrounded by corn fields.  Crows naturally like corn, so on occasion we have about 200 or so crows land in the corn field and have a picnic for the day.  Since reading about hawks and crows and their inability to get along, I have been watching their behavior.  If the crows are around pinicing- there is no hawk.

That being said, crows are ALSO coming into mating season, and this means some high strung activities on their part.  Crows will basically kick the ass of any moving creature that comes within the territory of their nest. From small birds, to cats, to hawks, to foxes. Even though a fox will not climb a tree to eat the eggs of the crow- the crow will still give it a whoppin if it comes too close to the crib.  I can appreciate their fierceness.

So since I have read this- I have been paying attention to not only Ash- but all his (or her) fellow friends that we usually see on a regular basis.    
There have been none around.

We are used to seeing at least two other foxes in the field across the street playing and eating mice. I asked David if he has seen any- and he hasn't either. So I went a little further. I checked out the fox holes in the locations near our farm. No activity whatsoever. Hmmm. That makes me feel even better about Ashs' MIA status for the past month or so. ( No fear- we have some idea that he or she has been around once in awhile to eat- but we have not seen his or her face for one month)  And being the end of their mating season- I have come to the conclusion that someone besides myself might be carrying a cub (or nine) themselves.

(Side note: Fox mating season is in late winter in the colder climates like Mass and Maine, meaning January and February. In warmer climates below the Mason Dixon-ahem- Maryland, fox mating season can come earlier.  We witnessed Ashs' "odd," behavior start around November, when he or she sat in our yard listening to the mating calls go on across the street.  It was soon after that that Ash stopped storing his or her food, and instead- ate it.  Males make mating booty calls. I mean mating calls. Females listen. First trimester=starving)(More math!)

The only problem with having crows around is that they can become a nusiance, and possibly rob the chickens of their eggs.  I don't see how a crow can actually get into our coop so I'm not too concerned about that, but I will keep an eye open for the "just in case."  We did have two crows last summer, that were quite charming. They would come each morning and get their drink on at the bird bath. Since no other birds used it- and mainly it was the honeybee summer pool, I enjoyed their morning meetings. I look forward to seeing this again in the summer, and now I know to encourage it.

So what should be done for the feathered 40 and the Patton like Hawk?

Fishing line.

I spent a good afternoon walking fishing line back and forth across the chicken yard, while the fourty sat and watched me eventually growing bored. I spaced it a good six inches apart and basically made cross sections over the entire yard.  What will this do in hawk protection? It will allow the chickens to still free range peacefully out in their yard even if a hawk is present and they are unaware.  The hawk can see a blade of grass tremble if a mouse is underneath it from 300 feet up. If they can see the fishing line (which  gives a good shine) they will not attempt to dive through it. (Hopefully)  I have read that if a hawk can get through it- but not out of it- they will not try.  What else does the fishing line do? It saves us from putting up a net over the entire yard, which wouldn't work for longer than two weeks. Leaves, snow, rain, and wind, stretch out the netting and before long its hitting the ground, and the hens are pissed. Also since the human eye can't really pick up on the fishing line- it makes a unredneck look possible. ( caution tape, windchimes, and colored socks hanging six feet above a flock of chickens isn't really fifth ave. yah know.)

So we will see how this all pans out.  Its been the second day since letting the hens back out into the big yard, and they are positively happy. They were out at six am this morning, waiting for the sun to rise, and stretching their wings. It feels good having all that space.....I can relate.

And as far as Math is concerned, I am done for the year. These calculations, have used up any math possibilities that I might have possessed. I am happy.

Lessons from a Fox.....again.

A sleepy-eyed Ash showed up at the doorstep tonight around five.  Its always nice seeing him just before it gets dark to get a good look at him and his coat.  He clearly had just woken up because he proceeded to use our driveway as a nice place to stretch, yawn, and open his eyes.

I grabbed some old corned beef deli meat that has been brewing in our fridge to give him. I figured the option of something other than Walmart hotdogs might be palatable for him on this windy night. As his slumbered self moseyed on over, he took a bite and walk a couple feet away.

He dropped it in the driveway and came back for more.

Smelling what was in the dish (and I think finally waking up due to the smell) he walked away and back over to the piece that he had dropped.

He ate it- loudly.

As if it was a child trying spinach for the first time- (get that visual)

Looked at me.

Then trotted away.

He has yet to come back tonight.



Lesson learned. Ash is not Irish.

How dare I insult his heritage with a poor mans Irish dinner. And since I am from Massachusetts I have conducted a calculation which leads me to believe that Ash is Italian. Because if you are NOT Irish- you must be Italian...... My Massachusetts friends will understand this calculation.


Menu tomorrow night: Walmart Hotdogs. Possibly lasagna.







On a brighter note my friend Sam pointed out that Ash, no doubt, is a Red Sox fan.
This made my night.

Just Your Nightly Fox Reminder.

Here's our buddy just sittin while I chat with him (or her) about how good looking they are. 

Right after this pic was taken Ash tried to lay down but quickly realized that laying on plywood wouldn't be that comfortable.  I appreciate his (or her) sense of knowledge.

So when I was done chatting, I got out the bag of leftover pork fat and pork ribs for our red coat. I put the goods in his (or her) dish. Ash quietly came over, grabbed some fat and chewed it lovingly.  After really getting a good taste, Ash got so excited that he (or she) grabbed his (or her) dish and took off with it- clear across the yard, before realizing that the porky goods did not come with it.

I was cracking up laughing when Ash stopped- looked in the dish- and finally realized. It took him (or her) another second to come running back over to grab the rest of dinner.

Ash's bowl is still in the yard. I'm wondering if it will be returned by morning.

I dunno....maybe he's just, different.

Just your daily fox entry for you to enjoy-

     I get home from work tonight pretty late on Monday night, and I usually spend a half hour just unwinding and talking to my husband about his day.  The conversation usually ends with, "have you seen Ash tonight?" This particular night he hadn't so I grab a bag of cat food to go outside and put some in his dish. Yes cat food. I figured, he has eaten it before since there was nothing else being offered, and since he has been hiding his food (poorly and in plain sight for the past two weeks) I guessed it was worth a shot giving him something that would be more difficult to hide.

     You see I haven't written much about this "new behavior," quite yet until I had something to really validate it with. Tonight seemed to be the validation.  The validation was the continued behavior of hiding his food and not eating a single piece of it- and time.  Its been two solid weeks of us watching him each night gracefully grab his food, look at us with his red eyes, and then run and hide it.  As the the first week grew into the second, the "hiding," of his food became more or less "hand it to me and I'm going to burry it in the pile of leaves next to your feet." At first we laughed. Telling Ash he was getting lazy and pretty uncreative in his hiding spaces. Usually the bird feeder, our pine tree and the chicken coop (yes the chicken coop) are laden with hotdog pieces the following morning. But seeing a hotdog piece the next morning in the corner of your driveway seemed to be his new half assed thing.

Well, as I went out to put food in his dish I gave him his whistle call to let him know supper was ready, and proceeded to go to the chicken coop to collect the girls work (eggs.) This time paying more attention to little pitter patter of feet as to not scare the pee out of myself again if he ran up to the coop.  I did what I had to do at the coop which included putting a tarp over their fenced in yard. (Its going to rain pretty heavy in the morning so I didn't want the girls to be stuck inside all day - The tarp will allow them a little protection from the rain) As I was out there for a while I got used to the dark and shut off the flashlight I was holding since it was just in the way. After finishing I thought to myself I better put the flashlight back on so I don't trip over a fox on the way back to the house. Good thing I did cause sitting in the middle of the yard was that pretty little red coat.  He started to follow me back to the house- gleefully running in front of me and behind, and stopping for a quick minute to - take a pee. "Hmm." Once again a new behavior I have yet to see from him. He is a rather- polite- fox but I figured I'd let that one slide as I have more of a sympathy lately to having to pee at all inconvenient times. 

He waited while I minced his chicken and put it in the dish. But before walking over to it- he rubbed up against a tall log we have sitting near the steps, and then did what just made me laugh out loud. Or "lol," for all you hepcats out there.

He put his front paws on the log- sniffed- then jumped up on it. He got a good look into out house, the dogs watching him, and his dish before jumping down. He walked to his dish- grabbed the tiniest piece- dropped it back in- and then ran to watch the dogs. Sat in the yard, and groomed himself rather, intently.

I came back inside laughing and telling my husband of the "new thing Ash did." And then quickly ran back outside to see what he was now up to.

I saw him out by the chicken coop just a little into the woods. He was rubbing up against a tree stump and watching me. While I sat there watching him back he climbed onto the stump, used it as a scratch post, and then laid down to groom himself more.

Here's the coolest part. While I sat (at the chicken coop- oh the irony) watching this friendly fox, I heard in the distance the unmistakeable mating call- of another fox.

(On my days off I study these mammals- mating calls just happens to be a part of that. But hey, when your a geek, geeky things interest you. What? I'll own it.)

We've had a hunch that this "behavior," of storing food, and coming in to check on us, had something to do with "coming into season," for our foxy friend.  This does happen for them at the onset of winter, with kits being born anywhere between February and May.  But after tonight and seeing the "almost catinheatlike personality," come out of him we now question more, if the he is really a her:)

Loving being a fan and following Ash's tweets.

Well! You made me shake a lil in my muckboots!

About a half an hour ago I went out to collect the rest of the chickens eggs, while their coop lights were still on.
Knowing that our little red coat comes running when he hears us in the yard I kept my ears open for his little fox-trot. (pun intended)
While I had the coop open and talking to my lady friends about what a great job at work they did today, I heard my buddy come running out of the woods.

I have never drop the coop door closed so fast before in my life.

I don't know what I was expecting- maybe Ash would suddenly become the Chupacabra and violently jump into the coop door and reek havoc on the 41. Maybe he would pull out nunchucks speak to me in the language of ninja's and fight me for the hens? Maybe he was just wondering if I was cooking up eggs again for him tonight.

Either way- he trotted back with me to the house (while I was still shaking) and ran in front of me about three feet as if I was another one of his fox buddies going out together to the Golden Coral.
He waited as I went inside and got him some leftover -ahem- chicken (store bought) and cut it up for him. While he waited he groomed himself and pulled ticks off his shoulder. Somehow it was the cutest tick pulling experience I've had yet. He grabbed two pieces and hid them (poorly) in the middle of the yard and came back to the steps and just looked at me.  There is something about looking into a wild animals eyes that is like no other. Its not that of a dogs- where you know that a loyalty and sweetness reside behind them. And its not that of a cats, where the look they give you says "scratch under my chin please." No its different. When those red eyes look directly into your eyes- not to the side- not at your nose- but at your eyes straight on, you have to look away.  His eyes are as red as his coat. I know I have said it before- but really red. I would pay money to understand his thoughts.

So, uninterested in his chicken (phew) he became interested when I took the trash out. Following me while I filled the bucket and rolled it out the driveway. He followed me back and gave me another minute lookover, grew bored, and left.



He always leaves me grinning.

Breakfast at Glory Downs

 

Those eggs that I cracked yesterday while cleaning just happened to turn into a delicious dinner for Ash. "Is that hotdogs in that there omelette?" you ask, Why yes indeed. I wouldn't want to insult our precious, predominately carnivorous friend with just a mere vegetarian form of protein. By the time it was done cooking he was outside waiting, and hanging out with David. I let the omelette cool and served it to him luke warm- in his dish of course. The verdict follows in the next post.

A Hefty Bakers Dozen

After cleaning six and a half dozen eggs- I only dropped four. (Eggs that is not dozen.) Which is pretty nobel for a clutz like me, considering just this morning I dropped a beer glass from the cabinet on my head, and got a nice egg growing out of it. Oh, the irony.

The gals have stepped up their game in the last couple of weeks. 

For awhile it was getting a little frustrating, having 41 chickens and getting four eggs a day.  Our Amish friends who gave us the hens said they should be ready to lay within a couple weeks- but that was back in August. And in a impatient society all of my own I figured these hens would be as punctual as our little fox.  A couple weeks pass by in August and still no 41 eggs a day. The question marks grew a many around my nogan as each day passed with only four eggs to gather. I have since learned that you cannot rush a lady into laying an egg until she is darn well ready. And a "couple weeks," in the sweet society of the Amish who are sans alarm clocks might actually mean four months. After some researching on this vast innerwebthingy I found that some ways you can tell a hen is ready to lay is by the color of their cheeks, the size of their combs (the little red hat ontop of their head) and the feathers on their butt.  I have spent many a nice fall days comparing my hens butts to one another as they run around the yard. The softer the feathers are on the butt- the less likely they are to lay. The paler the cheeks (on their face this time) the less likely they are to lay. No comb? No eggs. We installed some lights for the ladies as well in their coop. The lights come on at 6 a.m. shut off at 9 a.m. and come back on around 4 p.m. then shut off at 7 p.m. The extra light helps to keep them emotionally well. Being happy hens they are more likely to want to pop eggs out. Chickens are weather friendly animals. Winter time they slow down on their egg laying. Summertime they step up their game. Some of our gals happened to begin their molt phase of life as well too. When the chickens molt (lose their tail, wing and top of their head feathers) they don't lay. Who would want to anyways? If your not feeling yourself, having a bad hair day and are bloated, do you really want to get gussied up and go clubbing? Prob not. Either way- the hens the Amish gave us are beautifully healthy with their feathers all a shine and their red combs growing so large that they flop into their faces. They squawk eagerly when they see me come across the lawn in the morning, and all jump into harmony.  It is a pretty cool sight to see all these hens pop out of the coop just to say good morning......and to get their scratch and feed.

as for the four cracked eggs-- they will be cooked up and fed to our foxy friend. Nothing gets wasted on our farm:)

Our porch buddy

Our handsome friend looking full and furry- couldn't help but to post this picture in marvel of his coat and tail.

Late night Cravings!