No dogs dying today!

It's been a crazy 24 hours but the good news is that the dogs will not die a slow painful death and the chickens survived their initial neglect. 

Let me tell you the story.

All was going to plan. I came home from work yesterday, went to the chook pen and was shocked to see our last hen suffering from rigor mortis. I fear I may have wished her to death and felt rather nauseous when I saw her. For the past week, I had expected her to die, secretly wanted her to move onto the the next chook life, as I had no place for her with the new flock and she was not well enough to sell. The dilemma was a difficult one. Daryl refused to euthanise her and I didn't have the heart to do her in either, so she roamed peacefully, until she died, right on schedule. So with that sorted, I collected the dead hen and the bucket of rodent bait we left in the hen house to clear out the mice before the introduction of the the new girls. (no, the hen did not eat it as I forgot to put the baits). Rushing to get to the pick-up point, I grabbed the shed keys with every intention of hiding the bait and grabbing a pair of gloves. I grabbed the gloves and promptly left.
The hen pick-up went smoothly and I waited my turn with 30 or so enthusiastic chicken keepers and then with the help of our trusty friends, Zac and Carol, we loaded up 50 birds (30 ISA browns, 10 Rhode Island x New Hampshire (red hens) and 10 Australorp x New Hampshire (black hens).

All was looking good, except the weather, which was looking like a storm was brewing. By the time I got home (one and half hours from leaving) it was just dark and with the light of the quad bike, I saw the storm had hit home. The bucket of rodent bait was open and all the contents were gone. I had no doubt the dogs enjoyed every last crumb. Breaking into an immediate cold sweat I called the vet and explained the situation - the dogs needed to be brought in immediately. The hens needed to get out of the car immediately. Moving faster than imaginable the three of us moved on fast forward unceremoniously landing the hens in their new home and leaving them to fend for themselves. In an effort to move the large, old aluminium feeder (full of layer pellets) out of their reach, I somehow managed to cause it to slam into the side of my face, connecting sharply and causing a few stars to appear before my eyes. Not to be deterred we were on a mission and I was terrified the dogs, who were happily running around, would soon start fitting or something similar and die on me. In a short space of time we were pulling into the vets and thankfully each of us could carry a pup as I had no time to get leads. Being after hours, the clinic was empty and dogs thought it was a blast. At least in the beginning. Quickly determining the dogs needed to get their stomachs emptied, each dog was given a tiny tablet inserted under the eyelid and we then waited for them to vomit. Newspaper strewn across the floor our job was to keep them on it and watch for blue coloured stomach contents. After what seemed like an eternity, the girls started to look green and the purging began. Turns out only two of the three canines ate the poison. Mia (kelpie) and Scooby (border collie cross with who-knows-what) had consumed enough bait to kill a couple of elephants. They chundered over and over again. Stomachs emptied the girls soon regained their spark and wanted to explore the vet clinic. Antidote administered, several hundreds of dollars worth of medication given with instructions and the bank account severely depleted we returned home and the three girls happily ran around in the rain. With the rain now falling hard and the wind blowing cold, we scoured the backyard by torch light picking up any trace of poison left behind and removing the offending substance.

I am now feeling relieved the dogs will be ok, at least they will be in six weeks or so, after the course of medications and then testing (more large dollars) to check if their blood is clotting. Then, and only then, will they be in the clear. The vet did say we were fortunate to find the container and realise what had occurred. He stated that the girls would have been fine for a day or so and then would have died an extruciatingly painful death and we would have not been able to do a thing to help. The thought of such a thing happening still sends a tightening through my chest.
While the dramas where unfolding in the vet clinic, our poor baby hens were disorientated and found themselves alone on a wintery night. We returned to find them huddled together in the rain, in the corner of the yard. Slowly the three of us managed to catch each hen and place her in the roosting shed; Carol carefully guarding the doorway to prevent escapes while Zac and I attempted to catch the pullets. Eventually they were all tucked  up inside, warm and no worse for their adventures.

Daryl arrived home from work just as the last of the hens were put to bed and I was happy to say that all will be ok.
This is one chapter I would prefer never to repeat, baiting will be done differently now and fingers crossed we will confine the dramas to the novels I read or the silly shows on tv.

Until next time,

N

Bidding begets a Barnevelder

New beauties

Checking out their new home

It's quarter to five and I have finally sat down to have a break. Starting early this morning, I intended to stop into the poultry auctions held in Maffra, just for a look, and then whip home and delve into the study I need to do for work. I'd never been to the poultry auctions and Daryl was very encouraging yesterday, suggesting it would be good to see what was there, as we have often talked about it. It wasn't hard to twist my arm. Racing around this morning, I did some basic house tasks, ironed all the work clothes and even polished my boots along with checking cows and letting out the hens. As I did a quick scan of the paddock I noticed one of our cows looking suspiciously like she might calve soon. Leaving her to the birthing business I grabbed the cheque book, just in case, and headed for the poultry auction. As the sun broke through the clouds the day was looking sharp, and I was enjoying some time out on my own.
The poultry  auction was noisy, both with people and all manner of feathered varieties from fancy bantams, designer ducks, a handsome goose or two, table turkeys and  an amazing array of hens and roosters (each one trying to out-crow the other). Some breeders were there sprooking their knowledge and guiding the beginner poultry keepers, while others seemed to just enjoy the hot chips on offer. The narrow corridors with cages high, soon had the crowds gathered in on the auctioneer (who could benefit from a microphone) and the bidding began. Quick, without any hesitation, he went from cage to cage calling the crowd to bid. It was obvious who were long time bidders and knew how the game was played; I quickly learnt to stand my ground and not let the front rowers push me back when it

Rhode Island Red

came to the cages I wanted. Barnevelders and Rhode Island Reds were on my radar and I was not going to miss out. With my research done, I was ready to win and I did. I came home with four beautiful Barnevelder hens and two Rhody pullets, far cheaper than I had seen online. The easy bit done, I quickly realised my plans for study were evaporating as the "old pen" was going to have a makeover for its newest inhabitants. With a dozen of our older layers still waiting to be sold, I didn't want them to mix. These new ladies are a bit special and will hopefully be good mums in time. My

What a mess

other hens are purely for laying and a new batch will be arriving in two weeks. Now back in farm clothes I started the big clean up and two and half hours later the girls are happily scratching around their new home, with new laying boxes, roosting area and fresh pellets. Initially, they were not so thrilled and one quickly discovered she could fly onto the railing. After the unenviable task of catching her from an open area, on my own, I had no choice but clip her wings and that of her buddies. For a couple of weeks, the ladies will be confined to their home pen before being allowed to free range through the paddocks, this will teach them where they live and lay, but also allow them to get used to us. The foxes will know we have new

More mess

stock and will be snooping around. These pens are fox proof, so at night, they will be safe. With unseasonably warm temperatures it did not take long to work up a sweat, combine this with old straw, cob webs and general dust and soon I was covered in grime. It's amazing where dirt and feathers can end up as I discovered when I finally hit the shower and saw what my bra had collected! If all goes to plan our remaining layers will go to in a new home tonight, after the initial buyer failed to turn up last night. Now, a new buyer is set to be here later. Facebook is great in the freedom and low cost to advertise stock and all manner of treasure and trinkets, but I have found over time that people can be unreliable and very poor communicators. Our trusty smart phones do not leave us any excuses for poor communication and it is frustrating to be left waiting. If the last of the Isa's are picked up we will have no eggs for a couple of weeks. This is disappointing for us and the people we sell eggs to, but nonetheless we will make up for it very soon, with 40 layers ordered.

Mother's club

The cow I mentioned earlier did calve, but I am yet to go near her to see what she had. The Angus cows are good mums, very protective and generally it's best to leave them alone for a day or so. We still have a number to calve and this is turning out to be a strange calving season.  It was good to see a bit of rain during this past week and the sounds of it on the roof last night, when I couldn't sleep, was a welcome distraction. The paddocks are quickly turning a fresh shade of green, and with the sun presto, we will have growth. Having lost the afternoon revitalising the hen house, I needed to feed the poddy calves, who have now been reduced down to one feed a day, every second day. They are growing magnificently and chowing down their muesli and hay, not to mention the fresh grass in their paddock. They still come running anytime you are near them, especially if you have the quad bike. They associate the bike with milk. Study is taking a very strong second place to anything farm

So much nicer

orientated today and yesterday it was not on the schedule at all. Yesterday, Daryl and I enjoyed a clearing sale at Denison and came home with a few feed barrels and two chicken runs, fully enclosed. This is where our newest babies will learn to roam, hopefully we will have baby chickens in the

Much better

future, once we get equipped with an incubator and heated chick box. During the auction we bid, as usual, on a few different items, but there always seems to be someone willing to pay just a bit more and common sense tells you to stop but the auction momentum encourages you to keep bidding. It can be such fun! We managed to fit in a visit to my father and discovered the nursing home has a kleptomaniac lady who thinks everything is hers and anyone (who is male) is her husband. This is creating more drama than a day time soap and it seems dad is not too impressed. His crocheted blanket and papers have gone missing, replaced with unwelcome advances from the lady in question. We managed to soothe his concerns with coffee and hot apple pie from Maccas and convinced him the nursing home would be back to normal as soon as the staff could return all the borrowed goods! He is finally using a walking frame and is able to move around the centre more confidently, although he is quick to remind us that he doesn't need it and only uses it sometimes, a bit like he only rarely sleeps during the day - but anytime anyone visits he tends to be snoring.
I can smell the silverside cooking and the room is darkening. Outside the clouds are sparse and there is a pink tinge to the sky. It's time to close up the house, crank up the fires and maybe, just maybe,  open up these folders and do some study.

Until next time

N