Halloween 2014

I usually make the kids costumes.  This year, Finn got a Rapunzel dress and wig from Gramma and Grandad for her birthday.  But I did make Zander and Phoenix's costumes.....for free!  The Re-Use Centre comes in handy once again!  All the elements of both costumes were either things we had on hand, or gathered from the Re-Use Centre over the last few months.  Phoenix was a Lego Ninga, and Zander was Jack Sparrow.  The Lego costume was good, but the Jack Sparrow costume was the best EVER!  So simple, and yet it had an element that would be hard to attain for most people.  Real human dreadlocks!  My own hair.  Dreads that I grew for more than 5 years, and cut off last December.  Zander knew he wanted to use them for a costume, so we saved them.  I sewed them onto his bandana to make a wig.  

We had to trick-or-treat early this year because the kids had a performance that night.  Who schedules a performance with kids in it for Halloween night?!?!  I guess the Perth Community Choir does!  We were the first kids at most of the houses, before dark.  The kids didn't mind, it was a great Halloween!

He spent weeks working on Jack Sparrow's trademark swager

Chris didn't want to be left out, so he wore the Gandalf costume I made for him before we were married.  This time he didn't need a fake beard or hair though!

Hard lessons and soft hearts

We started with 13 chickens.  Being city folk, recently turned country folk, we named them and made them pets.  We love them, the way they run out to us when we call, looking for treats.  Some of them have grown friendly enough to allow us to pet them.  One of the Rockys even sits on Zander's lap to cuddle.  

 
Our first lesson in loss was a mystery illness that took the life of our Leia.  I don't know what it was, she just started acting off, and the next day she was dead.  It could have been something she ate, it could have been an impacted crop, or a bound egg, or any number of things.  Chickens are prone to all kinds of disease.  But whatever took her life, we were glad it was only her and not something going through the whole flock.  With tears we burried her under a stand of pine.  The children threw flowers on her grave and maked the place with a stone.

RIP Leia

Then came the hawk.  Saturday Zander glanced out the window and with excitement said "Wow, look at that huge hawk!"  It was perched on one of the garden fence posts.  Phoenix looked and said "Wow!  Wait, don't hawks eat chickens?"  There was a mad dash to the door and out to the yard.  The children saw the hawk swoop down off the post and fly off into the woods.  We all stood there looking around and it was eerily quiet.  Not a chicken in sight.  They always come running out when I walk into the yard.  They coo and cluck, and call out for treats.  None came.  I called them, and there wasn't a sound.  We walked around calling and even when I opened the tin scratch can and banged it around, not a single chicken came out.  So we started searching.  After a few minutes I noticed a pile of white fluff under a tree.  I thought it might be milkweed fluff the kids had been playing with, but it was feathers, lots of them.  There was very little blood though, and nothing but feathers.  I poked around under the nearby trees and caught a glimpse of black and white under a pile of pine needles.  I might have stepped on it if I hadn't been looking so carefully.  I reached under and feared the worst when it didn't move.  But as I removed the pine needles, the little rocky peeped at me and she was trembling when I picked her up.  She was uninjured but very scared.  I took her to the coop where she would be safe.  Now we knew to look for the chickens burried in the leaves and pine needles.  Next I found Gillette.  She was bleeding.  I quickly prepared the cat crate with old towels to isolate her and put her inside by the heater.  Then went out to look for others.  By that time Chris and the kids had found a few more birds.  None wanted to come out of their hiding places.  We really had to search for them!  Their instinct to hide is strong and they are well camoflauged!  It took us over an hour, and we were still missing 2 of our girls.  I feared that they were in the grip of the hawk.  I told the kids to go inside so the hens might come out of hiding and find their way home.  After they went in, Schick ran around the side of the house, from the opposite side we had been looking on.  That left only Pepper missing.  We all went in, knowing that we had done what we could to find her.  Several minutes later I walked out the front door and found her standing on the porch, nervous, but unhurt.  I got her back to the coop and locked the girls up tight for the night and gave them some extra treats.  Back in the house, Gillette was not looking good.  Her left eye was drooping, and she was not responding.  I gave her some water and cooked pasta (their favorite) hoping to bring her around.  We talked to the kids about what had happened.  Zander was angry.  He said he wanted to hunt the hawk with the bow he made and get revenge.  We talked about how the hawk was not trying to hurt our pets, he was trying to fill his belly.  How hawks are amazing creatures who happen to hunt small prey for food.  Our chickens must look plump and delicious to a passing hawk.  We can't blame him for trying.  With tears we prepared the children to loose Gillette.  We called up our chicken keeping friends for advice.  He was blunt.  "Kill it".  I couldn't.  Chris couldn't.  I guess we're not quite ready to embrace country living completely.  I made sure Gillette was as comfortable as she could be by the heater.  We went to bed expecting that she would not live through the night.  But she did.  The children thought that meant she was getting better, but when I inspected her wound more closely, I knew she was only going to suffer.  With more tears we brought her to the chicken friend's home and with his axe, he ended Gillette's suffering for us.  Seeing the extent of her injuries I felt guilty for not being able to do it myself sooner.  I guess our soft hearts are going to need to grow strong enough to handle these things living here.  I read a comment in an online forum that went something like this: "Not being able to kill an animal is a good trait, being unwilling to euthanize them when necessary is not".

RIP Gillette

There have been many tears, and a lot of talking the last few days.  We have discussed whether the risks of free ranging the hens is worth it, and have decided that even though we could loose others, the hens are much happier being free.  Gillette was partly lame when we got her, a previous injury or birth defect, we do not know.  But she was more vulnerable because of it.  The other hens made it to safety and their instinct hid them well from danger.  All we can do is make sure our flock is happy and as safe as we can make them without taking away their freedom.

Chickens don't like walking on snow, I have to shovel a path for them!

The day after the hawk attack, the remaining 11 hens refused to come out of the coop, but that was because of this cold white stuff on the ground.  The first snow fall, I guess the girls don't see its beauty!  We will bury Gillette near Leia today.  We will mark her grave with a stone.  We will play in the fresh snow, talk sweetly to our pet hens, and resume life on Maple Gate Farm.