Carl the Chicken Chaser

CLUCK, CLUCK, CLUCK!!!

 

Let me begin by apologizing....there are no cute pictures to go along with this post...so sad, I know. You see, the Chicken Lady is in desperate need of a new camera, so until then, I fear there will be limited pictures posted, and those that do happen to make it on here were taken by an antique.

 

  Anyhoo, Carl usually accompanies me out to the barn in the evenings to feed the horses and collect the eggs. We bundle up (he wears more cold weather gear than I do, even though I'm sure the chilly air bothers me more than it does him), but I do tend to have the first-time mommy tendencies. His head is covered up with the hood of his coat, his cheeks are pink and excitement is in his eyes, as Carl LOVES going outside. Bundled up and he walks beside me, trilling his tongue and pointing to the barn for the entire stroll. He looks at me, then straight ahead, back at me, straight ahead. I know he's trying to tell me something and I can't wait to hear it one of these days with real words.  Once we get there, Carl greets and chickens who happen to be naughty and loitering around in the barn instead of the kennel/steer lot/coop where they should be, and proceeds to get said chickens all riled up by chasing after them as I pour grain into Jimmy and Charlie's feed buckets. At first I told him not to, but as I saw he wasn't going to listen to me anyway, and how can really get the girls moving, I decided to put him to work. He has successfully chased a few of these broads back into the kennel when I open the door for them.

 

  After we have corralled any strays back to where they belong, he goes into the kennel part of the "coop" with me as I collect the ONE eggs that someone insists on laying there daily (at least she's consistent). All the while Carl practices his chasing skills. I feel like I'm in a tornado of feathers and BE-COKS as I try and painstakingly make my way to the door, calling for Carl to follow me as my voice is lost in the ruckus as Aunt Em's is lost to winds of the twister in 'The Wizard of Oz'.

 

  This daily activity is paying off, however, as real-life storm chaser and thrill seeker Reed Timmer has called to see if Carl is available to chase tornados once he is potty trained....

 

  The other night I left my sidekick indoors in the trusty hands of the Notekins as babysitters (because I'm going to receive the "Mom-of-the Year' award for 2014) and ran to the barn myself. These really cold days I can get the work done faster since it takes the same amount of time to bundle everyone up as it does for me to go and do the feeding and egg collecting. After several minutes of chicken chasing, I regretted my brilliant idea. One particularly stupid bird kept running past the open kennel door and out into the dark night. I had to chase her halfway down the steer lot fence row before I could get in front of her to try and scare her back in the barn. Then the genius ran past the OPEN door and almost out in the horse pasture. *Insert Shaw sigh here* Finally I succeeded and had her back in the coop with the door shut so that all the chickens were shut in for the night.

 

  Or so I thought.

 

  As I reached my hand in a crack of the horse hay where said less intelligent bird laid a hoard of eggs before we could find them, up sprang another chicken from the hiding place like a freak popping out of a birthday cake!

 

  "SURPRISE!" She squawked at me, hay flying everywhere and feathers flapping like crazy. *Insert annoying Carrie Screamerwood "Blown Away" here* So there I am, going into round two of chicken chasing, wearing a sexy getup, let me tell you. I had my skipants on over my stay-at-home-mom yoga pants, pinned closed with on old baby safety pin I think my mom used on me back when parents used cloth diapers, because the zipper broke on the ski pants. The nylon on the butt of my ski pants is almost all melted off because I stood too close to heater in the dairy barn office one morning. I had my Shaw Farm coat on under my heavy coat (that was free by the way) that smells like dairy cows (sorry Janet!) with dried poop going down one arm. Jimmy and Charlie are laughing hysterically at me, rolled on their backs, slapping their bellies with  their front hooves, as tears running out of their eyes.  

 

  I'm praying for three things as I chase this dumb bird to the OPEN kennel door, where she can't seem to comprehend the fact that she has to go AROUND the door and that the world doesn't end in the corner of the door and the wall of the kennel.

 

  1.) I pray my son is still OK inside and isn't screaming yet,

 

  2.) That a Yoder doesn't decide to pull in the driveway and see a sexy beast who apparently can't contain and catch her chickens, and

 

  3.) That this stupid chicken would just die for all the trouble she's caused me.

 

SO, lesson learned here, Carl is a much better chicken chaser than I am. He actually thinks it's fun!

 

 If you see me with a bald spot, it's from pulling out my hair over these birds and nothing to do with my toddler son.

Deviled Eggs & Blown Away!

CLUCK, CLUCK, CLUCK!!!

  WHEW! I just got done cleaning the horse stalls, and it’s just down right angry out there! The wind is really something today. It feels more like spring than fall; the air is warm on your bare arms and smells like damp earth. The only thing missing is the faint whiff of hyacinths and the promise of more days like this to come…oh and a tornado warning…though I wouldn’t necessarily rule that one out, as anything can happen weather-wise in Ohio.

    Anyhoo, all the animals are hunkered down tight in the barn, save for Jimmy and Charlie.

 

 I don’t think even this wind is strong enough to blow those two away! The chickens on the other hand should probably worry about it. Kinda figures the poor things get a nice warm day (which I’m sure these kind of days are going to be extinct pretty soon) and it’s too gusty for the poor things to be able to go out and enjoy it any. 

   It’s also a shame that Carrie Underwood (or as Dan and I call her, Carrie Screamerwood) is playing on repeat in my head right now, her horrible screaming song “Blown Away”. I mean, seriously? Country music has been reduced to a girl screaming about a tornado blowing away her abusive father, as he was “a mean old mister”. (Boy I sure hope whoever wrote THAT lyric doesn’t win any literary prizes for it…if so, I’m in the wrong business!) I’ll save my down fall of country music rant for another day.

  Back to the chickens…

   Yesterday we celebrated Thanksgiving with my in-laws (it felt more like Easter with the 60 degree temperatures, but the pumpkin pie and cranberry Jell-O mold reminded me that Old Man Winter is just around the corner). It was my job to bring the deviled eggs. Ah, I can still taste them now! Not much is better in life than a true farm egg that has been hard boiled. You top that with the mustard/mayo combination of the yellow filling, and BA-ZINGA! you have a true culinary delight. (Even as I type this I’m tempted to make more and indulge myself in a sickening gluttonous binge of eggs.) I had a few left over that weren’t going to fit in my little deviled egg dish, so I peeled the shells away and scooped the yellow stuff on the eggs and enjoyed a small taste of heaven. It brought back memories of pregnancy cravings and nursing starvation…it also ruined my appetite just a touch.

  I wonder just how many hard boiled eggs per day are considered unhealthy? Whenever I have a carton of them I have to stop myself from eating too many, usually by envisioning my cholesterol spiking. And let’s not even get into the nutritional breakdown of egg yolks and mayonnaise. I don’t feel like doing the research on it all, plus it’s hard enough to type this with a toddler on my lap.

  Nope, I’m just going to enjoy the times of deviled eggs and work hard to get this song out of my head. This time last week we were buried under several inches of snow and I was fighting myself to not put up the Christmas decorations (it’s not allowed to do so until after Thanksgiving in the Shawhan household). Today I’m fighting the temptation of the Easter decorations as strongly as the chickens are fighting off the strong southern gale!

  Enjoy Thanksgiving and wonderful deviled egg delights!

Double Homicide Takes Place at Shawhan Farm

Double Homicide Strikes Aloof Chicken Farm; Mink Mob is Suspected

Written By: jack Kelly of the Manhattan World

 

 

     A double tragedy struck the once famous Shawhan Farm late last week. Two working hens were found headless.

 

    "I heard a lot of ruckus when I went out to change over the laundry and ran outside to find two headless chickens." Rebecca Shawhan, formally known as the Chicken Lady, told us. As she rushed down to the barn, she says she had a gut feeling of what could have caused all the commotion.

 

    "I do suspect a mink, or weasel, whatever the suspect may be. We have had numerous run-ins with this guy before."

 

  The Shawhan Farm has been in the headlines quite a few times in the past due to the heinous crimes that members of the now suspected, Mink Mob, have been known to commit on the Shawhan's property. Their trademark be-headings, drifts of plucked feathers from the victims bodies, and the induced panic of the surviving members of the chicken flock, all point to the liberal mob family.

 

  "I don't think I would care as much for losing a bird if it wasn't so wasteful," Ms. Shawhan commented. "I'd rather something eat the body instead of not touching it and just ripping off the head." Ms. Shawhan confessed to actually contemplating on trying to salvage the meat off the carcass, but decided she wasn't that desperate for a meal. The remains of the two victims were buried in Manure Memorial Gardens after an autopsy and identification by Daniel Shawhan.

 

  Dan Shawhan has been in the press for his mink-slaying abilities. It was reported that Dan was responsible for the death of one Mink Mob family member.

 

Is this attack perhaps in retaliation to that infamous killing? Rebecca Shawhan commented "No." to that particular theory.

 

 We asked Ms. Shawhan how the rest of the flock was taking the tragedy. "they are ok," She responded. "I think it was hard on them for a few days. Egg production dropped off for awhile. It's slowly coming back around."

 

  The Shawhan's are taking precautions on their farm in an attempt to thwart off another attack. They are playing a radio during the days the chickens are allowed out of the coop with the hopes that human voices may deter the Mink Mob from slinking back around. Other days, the chickens just don't get to go outside.

 

  "We are hoping to throw off the suspect as much as possible. We will be letting the chickens out on random days, trying to throw him off a little bit." She shrugs. "We'll see if it helps."

 

  This reporter just had to ask a question that wasn't related to the story at hand. I asked Ms. Shawhan why the long hiatus from her comical literary contributions? To which she responded quite testily that it was "none of your business." I tried to provoke her further, but she ordered me off her property and threated to call the police.

 

  Speaking of which, no arrests for the double murders have been made at this time and no more evidence has been procured.

 



Flock 4 Contributations

 
 IT'S ABOUT TIME!!!!!
 
  1.) That I finally blog again! I have to apologize for the lack of chicken posts the last few weeks. Summer is a busy time of the year here on the Shawhan farm. I've been peeling, cutting, snapping, canning, mashing, freezing...weeding, mowing, washing, hoeing, picking, plucking, pruning...running, wiping, changing, chasing...how many more action words are there??? Let's just say it's been very busy lately keeping up with all the goodies the garden has been blessing us with along with a one year old. (A big thanks to my mom and dad who have put in some time and labor out in the field, I mean garden!)
 
 2.) That Flock 4 is starting to lay!!!
 
  It's always very exciting to see a pullet egg in the nest box, or some other secret hiding place, for the first time. You can easily get in the grove of going out and seeing all your chickens hanging around, knowing about how many eggs you'll probably get that day and just put the thought in the back of your mind that someday...someday, the newbies will start producing too. Then, when that day comes, it's rewarding and exciting...like finding money in your pocket you didn't know you had, or buying something at the store and it rings up cheaper than you were expecting.
 
  So far we have gotten a handful of these pullet eggs. They are smaller than an a "regular" egg,

 

 
and the couple that I've cracked open for scrambled eggs have been missing a yolk. Perhaps it was in there, but to me it looked like it was just the white part. Oh well, I don't mind because I know that by October or so, we should be hitting a peak in egg production.

 And speaking of egg production! Talk about a bunch of slackers right now! Some days we only get 6 or 8 eggs! I don't know if all the up and down temperatures are messing with the girls or not...I could ask them, but I don't think they'd answer me. Sometimes I think the fear of the testing facility gets to them and they can't perform under pressure.

 At least we have Flock 4 who can take up the slack!

A Near Death Experience

 Last week my momma came up to spend the day with Carl and I. Because I have to have my excessively large garden and we have had an excessive amount of rain this summer, it has caused an excessive amount of weeds to grow at an excessive rate. A couple of Sundays ago, I spent a good part of the afternoon hoeing the eight rows of sweet corn we put out. I hacked and hacked until my arms and back ached as the searing sun beat down upon back. All I could think about was pool, as I dared not envision the beach down in Punta Cana because it was a cruel reminder that I won't be going down there anytime soon. (This beach is AMAZING!!!! Think Kokomo and any other beach the Beach Boys ever sang about or any tropical picture they ever painted for you...here is a mean teaser for you!)

 It's a cruel summer, I know...

 Anyhoo, back to my garden and last week.... after hoeing all the corn it needed to be done a week later. *Shaw Sigh* So last Monday mom came up to visit me and a very special little boy so that I could hoe the green beans and run the tiller.

 As I was finishing up the garden work, mom came out with Carl and they watched me finish the tilling/played in the yard. After the forest of weeds had been officially destroyed, we all ventured in the barn to check on the animals. I went to the chicken coop first since it was a rather warm day and I figured they needed more water. As soon as I opened up the door I cried out in horror, "She's dead!"

 There, hanging lifelessly upside down from the top of the nest box, was one of the Araucanas from Flock 4! I named her Snowy because she's such a beautiful white-ish bird. (A word of chicken owning wisdom... don't name your birds...those are the ones who will be killed or runaway.)

 I stood there in the door of the coop dumbfounded with my jaw hanging open. Mom was already offering her condolences and Carl was chewing on his fingers happy in grandma's arms. A feeling of defeat washed over me like the waves in Punta Cana. What the crap am I doing wrong!! I try and try to keep these birds alive, well and happy, but they seem so fragile. Sometimes keeping them all alive, well and happy is like trying to hold a palm-full of water cupped in your hand and expecting not to lose any, but it always runs out.

 *Shaw Sigh Again* I walked into the coop with the intentions of removing the carcass. As I edged closer I saw a flicker of movement. Her eye moved, then she began to stretch out her wing like one can see chickens do sometimes as they stretch. So much movement...she was still alive!!!

 "She's alive!" I cried back to mom like Dr. Frankenstein (all that was missing was a clap of thunder and a flash of lightening.)

 "She is?" Mom asked, sounding truly stunned.

  As I investigated closer I saw that Snowy was hanging on top of the nest box by her toe. The top of our nest box has hinges in the middle of it and part of the top opens up so we can collect the eggs. A certain someone, who shall remain nameless, though it WASN'T ME, collected the eggs later than usual the night before. Snowy must have been perched on the top of the nest box for the night and when this person opened and closed the lid of the box, it must have caught her toe, making her trapped. My guess is that she appeared so lifeless because if you a chicken upside down/on it's back, it releases something in their brain that makes them "relax"/ not fight you.

 I was a bit worried about her since it was a hot day and she hadn't been able to drink in hours and I'm assuming she'd been in that position for awhile. I also didn't know if her leg was broken or not. I kicked out the current testing subject in the brooder and put Snowy in there for a few days. Now I'm happy to report that she's back with the flock and running around acting like nothing even happened.

 Thankfully, this time I didn't lose another chicken and for last week, anyway, my garden looked great!

Passing the Test

 The time has FINALLY come on the Shawhan farm that we begin to weed out our old non-laying hens. I have been dreading this day because I will never ever forget bringing home Flock 1 and not sleeping that first night imagining all kinds of meat-eating beasts breaking into the garage and massacring my cute new babies. I will never forget the days we let them roam freely around the yard, giggling as they ran towards us when we pulled into the driveway and sweeping the chicken poo off the porch every night.
 
 Flock 1 was trained early on to come running across the property when they saw and heard the shake of a bread bag. Those same hens, the ones who are left anyway, still come running to the kennel door when you approach with something yummy to share.

 However, we have to come to the realization that Flock 1 is 4 years old now. That is getting old for a chicken, at least an egg laying one. Personally I've never researched how long a hen can and will lay eggs...I've heard their prime time lasts a year and half to two years. After they finish laying eggs, there isn't anything wrong with them and they are great for pets and entertainment, but if you keep adding to your flock every year like we do, you run into spacing issues. And unfortunately, there isn't any room for freeloaders when space is needed for the working girls.

 Dan and I have decided to test almost every single chicken we have. Now that the brooder is empty, it's the perfect space for a testing facility. We are now testing our 5th chicken in the brooder. We started out by placing one of our Light Brahmas into the brooder with food, oyster shells, water and artificial lighting. (She was a bit camera shy...)

 We started out with five of these birds four years ago, and sadly we are only down to two.

 I was both happy and extremely surprised when this old biddy laid an egg after about three days within the testing facilities walls!! I'm not 100% sure the egg was actually hers or not...I wouldn't put it past another chicken to have snuck over there and given her egg to make it look like she laid it, but since I have proof of this and no one has confessed, I have to just assume it was hers.

 Because she still produced the goods, this hen gets to stay at the Shawhan farm. Her twin, however, did not pass the test and received a failing grade and a black zip tie leg band so we can distinguish the slacker.

 I was under the impression all our hens from Flock 1 had dried up long ago and were no longer part of the Shawhan farm work force, but so far they have proved me wrong!! So far the only Golden Girl who hasn't produced is the one pictured above! I'm pretty proud these girls are still giving an egg every three to four days. Dan is harder on them than I am...he would rather send them along their way and have hens who produce more than just once every few days. My attitude on it is that they are still producing and contributing to my egg fund, so they get to stay!!!

 Thankfully, all the hens who receive a black leg band will go to my cousin's house and live there until the month of October, where they will be on display for school children and the thousands of families who visit the pumpkin farm. I'm happy with this arrangement since that means no one has to die! I couldn't bare that thought, though I know they can't stay forever as we are reaching a record amount of chickens...I believe we are in the 30s to 40s now.

 Those chickens who get to stay are marked with a white leg band and continue to click their long talons together to the beat of a typewriter every morning and sing a wonderful rendition of Dolly Parton's "Nine to Five".

Hazing Reports at Local Farm

 

Hazing Reports at Local Farm

Young Chickens Too Terrified to Leave Coop Confines

 

Written By: Jack Kelly of the Manhattan World

 

 

 Dan and Rebecca Shawhan's farm (pronounced 'Shaun'), is in the press yet again, for their infamous chickens. This reporter is pretty sure reality TV is going to be knocking at their door any day now, as every day seems to bring about new drama to the young couple's farm.

 

 The scoop is that now their new flock of chickens, dubbed 'Flock 4', is being hazed by the older chickens on their farm.

 

 In the past, the Shawhan farm has been in the papers when the older members of their flock threatened to go on egg laying strikes if new members were added. Apparently it continues to be a sore subject for the hens.

 

 "We aren't sure exactly what is going on," says Dan Shawhan, as he takes off his Pioneer hat and wipes the sweat from his brow. "We introduced Flock 4 a couple of weeks ago and we thought the transition went smoothly. But ever since that first day, Flock 4 has not left the coop." Most days the new chickens can be seen perched on the roost, he continues. No one has yet to see a member of Flock 4 venture past the feeder in the coop and go into Kennel Bar.

 

 "They all kind of stick together," adds C.E.O. Rebecca Shawhan, known to most as 'The Chicken Lady'. "I haven't seen them mix with the other members of the flock yet."

 

When asked if she was concerned about the issue, Mrs. Shawhan responds, "Of course not! When they feel like they have to poop out an egg, they'll go to the nest box and become a productive member of the flock. I can't wait until that day gets here."

 

We have had several anonymous callers who claim they are members of Flock 4 reach out to us, wanting to share their stories. One caller claims that the other members of the flock peck them at night and others will rake their claws down a chalkboard, making it impossible to sleep. Another caller said that the older hens whisper mean and derogatory comments in her ear all night. One member of Flock 4 was so upset on the phone, saying she's about to go crazy if she doesn't get a good nights' sleep, that she was too hysterical to share her story with us. We sent her a package of sleeping pills.

 

The Shawhan's claim to no nothing about these hazing reports, though they are aware that their flock of hens have created their own sorority, called Sigma Shawhan Sigma. "I guess they have established this organization and their is their way of inducting new members." Says Dan Shawhan.

 

We asked the C.E.O. what she plans on doing about the actions of her older hens. She responded: "What can I do? I cannot go outside at night and baby-sit my chickens, I have a one year old for crying out loud! As long as the hens are producing eggs, we have no grounds to penalize them. They seem to be getting enough rest, as our egg count has not dropped any."

 

We were unable to get any comments from the accused members of the Shawhan flock. They refused to speak to us unless we were from a network television station, or they had a lawyer present.

 

The Manhattan World will continue to bring you any developing updates on this case.