Girls Without Guidance

Without Frederick's influence, it seems the hens have lost their incentive to preen and dress up, looking a little slovenly with feathers awry and not shaking off after a dust bath.  The free-rangers have also become lackadaisical about their laying habits, dropping eggs willy-nilly hither and yon.  I'm finding them in the front walkway, in the driveway, and on the path to the Silkies' pen.  The girls are also opening the door to strangers.  Yesterday there were five tom turkeys inside the chicken pen...who knows what ulterior motives these boys had.  It seems we're going to have to have a little pep talk here.  I can't  replace Frederick, but that's no reason for them to let themselves go like this.

Single moms have it tough.  Turkey hens usually have an auntie or a nanny to help out, but there is a hen with eleven turklets who is having to raise her brood alone.  She is doing her best, bringing the kids by morning and evening for the birdseed under the oak, but one or more of the little ones often gets separated and stands there and cries until she comes back.  She started out with twelve little ones, and the fact that she still has eleven does her credit.  The survival rate is pretty low for babies in the wild, given the ratio of predators.  Of course, the predators around here have developed a taste for chicken.  (So far, so good in that regard, and I've actually brought the rifle back in the house.)  Ah...I hear the little yeep-yeep-yeeps right now, and there goes the parade of turklets out for breakfast.

Pearl must be wondering what in the world she's done wrong.  Night before last, I called and called at bedtime, but she didn't come in.  She'd evidently snuck into the feed shed behind me and I didn't find I'd shut her in until morning.  She clung to me like a limpet all day, telling me over and over how sorry she was (I also apologized), and she was the first one in last night, not wanting to be stuck in isolation again.