The birds have been enjoying a fully opened Grandpa Feeder, this time around the ducks aren't hogging it and the chickens weren't running away at the mere sight of it.
It's been great, the yard isn't full of sparrow hoards and the mice haven't figured out how to get in which means that with dwindling food sources for them we have managed to catch a bunch of them in snap traps. The field rats on the other hand are much craftier, a few unlucky ones have made their way into snap traps or the live capture trap, but it's not unusual to see a rat face peeking out of the G.F.
Problem is, the birds never had a problem with a fully open feeder.
This morning as I moved the training bolts to the next stage so standing on the treadle means there is movement and noise, I was prepared for a repeat of last time. The ducks avoiding the treadle and protecting the food source like survivors in an apocalypse. Chuck cowering at the rooster face peering back at him from a shiny metal surface. The cries of birds who are adamant I am
starving them to death!
My apprehension was at first justified... the feeder does not appear outwardly different, although maybe at bird eyelevel the slightly lower lid set their internal alarms going
They eyed it carefully as though seeing it for the first time.
The second they placed their little raptor feet on the green platform it lowered, the lid lifted, and the birds jumped off. Same as last week, Lacey was placed on the treadle, but this time she took no convincing to stuff her face and all it took was a few bits of dog roll to convince the ducks they wouldn't die.
The rest of the chickens will eat from the metal monster if someone is already there, but usually resign themselves to pecking at the crumbs Stevie drops. Hopefully they will manage on their own and then we can start the whole process over again with a fully closed feeder...
Hey, it's already going better than last time!
These past couple of weeks I've only seen the flock in the mornings before work, in the dark after work for good night pats (stupid autumn!), on the weekends and on snapchats sent by Miss A. On Thursday she sent a worrying photo, Whitney seemed to have injured a back claw
How bad was it? how much gone? if it's just a nub is it rubbing on the ground? what if it's now an infected wound...?
We don't pick up the lady ducks often, they will eat from your hand and come up to you, but usually picking them up stresses them so much they go off and lay wonky soft shelled eggs. Night time just as they have settled in is the best time to nab them, they don't really sleep but are still calmer.
It took a bit of time to round Whitney up and she laid quietly on her back as we inspected her flapper, thankfully she had just broken her back claw so it was now tiny, the toe itself was perfectly fine, if it had at some point bled, there was no longer any evidence.
It was too dark to photograph her foot, Whitney wriggled up and burrowed her face into my shoulder. I got duck cuddles for the first time in ages!
Everything else chugs along as usual, the ducks leave up to 3 eggs in the coop in the morning (anything more than 2 has a soft shell), and spend their days either wandering the yard or paddocks looking for treats with the chickens or playing hop on top in their pools.
Chuck shrieks to gather up his flock when a cat comes by, mounts everyone except the pullets Lizzy, Blue and Sunny and glares at me when I pat Lacey. She's his girlfriend dammit!
Lacey is okay with being petted, she still doesn't squat, but spends a lot of time hanging out with Chuck. She is still the first chook to scamper directly under me the second she spots me in the garden, closely inspecting the weeds I remove or nipping at my purple gloves while her buddies circle the wheelbarrow.
Any opportunity to sunbathe or dustbathe is a good one, and your day can always be rounded out by becoming a chicken ball for an afternoon nap.
Or perching your big chicken bottom on a stray pair of legs (gosh she's heavy now!) it's so hard to sit perfectly still and be a good chicken perch
