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ohiofarmgirl
Sipping Bacon Martinis
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Ever had one of those farm moments that regular folk just wouldnt understand? Well, heres one for you. I started telling this over on the turkey board but it was just kinda funny so I thought Id share.
We have this little Bourbon Red turkey hen named, Runner. If she hadnt tried so hard to set a nest this year she surely would have ended up in the pot by now. In a word, she is ridiculous. Aptly named, she runs. Everywhere. And she is loud. At some point during this summer she was the only one of our 3 hens not on a nest or brooding a clutch. So in her loneliness she screamed for 3 weeks straight.
She is also a raccoon magnet. Seriously. Twice after she actually sat down on a nest she was attacked by raccoons. Those varmints are no longer with us I assure you, rest their souls. And thanks to guns that go boom and paradoxically traps named have a heart. Hum
Anyway on her fourth try to set a nest, and after the second raccoon attack, we barricaded her into the Fort Knox of all turkey nest boxes and. Nothing. All her eggs died or were killed. We finally took her up, washed her off, and tried to recuperate her as best we could. It didnt go well.
Even tho she was separated from the flock they managed to grab her thru the fence and beat her up. Carrying her to safety, bloodied and sulking as she was, I realized that I had broken our cardinal farming rule and I fell in love with her. She tried so hard to hatch a clutch and was really a trouper. I put her up in a broody coop alone and said good nite.
The next morning I went out to check on her and to my horror I thought she had been attacked! She was mostly bald and there were feathers everywhere. To make it worse, it was one of our colder nights and she was standing alone, on one foot, shivering. That poor little dear. I quickly determined that she was not attacked but her feathers were falling out in handfuls. Not gradually like molting but falling off her like leaves.
So I did the only rational thing I could think of. I scooped her up and ran into the house.
You can imagine The Big Mans surprise, however, when I burst into his bathroom, threw open his shower door, and shook that poor little hen at him and said, (well kinda screamed):
OHMIGOSH LOOK AT POOR RUNNER WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO!??!??!?
I can only guess what he was thinking when, thru soaped up, squinting eyes, he saw me standing there in muddy barn boots, barn wear, and shaking a quickly de-feathering turkey hen at him.
He calmly advised me to please close his shower door and he would join us in a minute.
Im telling you there is never a dull moment. And not really a good way to try and explain this to someone off farm but there you have it.
Runner, by the way, seems to be doing better today. I put her in a coop alone with the chickens (its warmer) and am giving her a lot of high protein food. Tomorrow Ill let her pop around and get a good dust bath.
We have this little Bourbon Red turkey hen named, Runner. If she hadnt tried so hard to set a nest this year she surely would have ended up in the pot by now. In a word, she is ridiculous. Aptly named, she runs. Everywhere. And she is loud. At some point during this summer she was the only one of our 3 hens not on a nest or brooding a clutch. So in her loneliness she screamed for 3 weeks straight.
She is also a raccoon magnet. Seriously. Twice after she actually sat down on a nest she was attacked by raccoons. Those varmints are no longer with us I assure you, rest their souls. And thanks to guns that go boom and paradoxically traps named have a heart. Hum
Anyway on her fourth try to set a nest, and after the second raccoon attack, we barricaded her into the Fort Knox of all turkey nest boxes and. Nothing. All her eggs died or were killed. We finally took her up, washed her off, and tried to recuperate her as best we could. It didnt go well.
Even tho she was separated from the flock they managed to grab her thru the fence and beat her up. Carrying her to safety, bloodied and sulking as she was, I realized that I had broken our cardinal farming rule and I fell in love with her. She tried so hard to hatch a clutch and was really a trouper. I put her up in a broody coop alone and said good nite.
The next morning I went out to check on her and to my horror I thought she had been attacked! She was mostly bald and there were feathers everywhere. To make it worse, it was one of our colder nights and she was standing alone, on one foot, shivering. That poor little dear. I quickly determined that she was not attacked but her feathers were falling out in handfuls. Not gradually like molting but falling off her like leaves.
So I did the only rational thing I could think of. I scooped her up and ran into the house.
You can imagine The Big Mans surprise, however, when I burst into his bathroom, threw open his shower door, and shook that poor little hen at him and said, (well kinda screamed):
OHMIGOSH LOOK AT POOR RUNNER WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO!??!??!?
I can only guess what he was thinking when, thru soaped up, squinting eyes, he saw me standing there in muddy barn boots, barn wear, and shaking a quickly de-feathering turkey hen at him.
He calmly advised me to please close his shower door and he would join us in a minute.
Im telling you there is never a dull moment. And not really a good way to try and explain this to someone off farm but there you have it.
Runner, by the way, seems to be doing better today. I put her in a coop alone with the chickens (its warmer) and am giving her a lot of high protein food. Tomorrow Ill let her pop around and get a good dust bath.
