Hey gang! The new episode of my podcast is up and available over on Podbean.
I was planning on talking about honey for this episode but the last two weeks have been pretty busy (and a little rough) on the homestead so I ended up needing to make the honey info into its own episode.
If you follow my Instagram, you’ll see that I cleaned out my large coop, moving the old litter to the compost pile, and starting fresh. I use something called the ‘deep litter method’ in my large coop. The basic idea is to allow the bedding/litter to start composting inside the coop, which is achieved by continually adding fresh litter and turning the old to ensure even degradation. This is supposed to generate additional heat during the cooler months, although I’ll admit I’m not totally convinced of that. What I have experienced is that this method is time saving as I’m not continually removing old litter. If done correctly, it also doesn’t smell and actually seems to help control the overall odor of the coop, and by the Spring, I have a ready pile of compost to throw on the leaf pile.
I decided to take this opportunity to put a tarp down. The floor of the coop is weather and water proofed but having the additional protection of the tarp seems like a good idea. I'm also hoping it will make the next big clean out easier as I can, theoretically, pull the whole tarp and bedding out at once before moving it to the compost pile.
For the substrate, I use pine shavings from the feed store, dried leaves, and hay. I don’t usually have to turn it often as the chickens do it for me! By throwing in some scratch/grain, they’ll dig around in the litter for the morsels, turning it as they do so.
There are products on the market that claim to help expedite the composting process, and/or controlling odors. As I mentioned, things shouldn’t smell in your coop if this method is working. If you do find that your coop is becoming smelly, it’s likely a moisture issue; too much moisture in the substrate will lead to rotting and, potentially, mold. Another issue might be lack of beneficial insects that help with the composting process. This can be from using DE liberally in your coop. I actually don’t use it at all in my big coop, and recommend against it if you plan to try this method. If your coop ever smells strongly of ammonia, you should throw out all the litter and add fresh. Too much ammonia build up causes serious health problems in chickens, and isn’t good for you either!
A good guide with some lovely pics can be found on the Fresh Eggs Daily blog.
In sad chicken news, I had to have one of my ladies euthanized last week. A little more than 2 weeks ago, I noticed that she was always turning her head to look at things with just one eye, and she occasionally would miss her food when pecking. Suspicious, I scooped her up and tested the eye in question. She didn’t respond to any movement on that side, and the pupil didn’t react to light. The other eye was responsive. I looked her over for signs of injury or illness and found nothing. Everything I read indicated that a hen blind in one eye should be fine, especially when in a predator proof enclosure/run.
Within a week, though, she was totally blind. I noticed immediately because of her odd behaviour; she was walking very carefully and with exaggerated steps, and was clearly using sound to find the other girls and therefore food. Testing her eyes with a flashlight got no response in either eye. I considered having her euthanized right then and called my vet for an appointment to discuss it but was unable to get scheduled. I decided things could wait for a few days as she was otherwise doing well. In fact, I was grateful the next day that I hadn’t taken her in as she seemed in good spirits and was eating well. The other girls weren’t picking on her, either, which was amazing to me as they had been so awful to Agatha when she started to become unsteady.
Sadly, last Wednesday morning, I found Ginger in the coop, hunched over. When I scooped her up, she moved her head oddly and was unusually quiet. If I put her down, she had no balance and staggered. Still no other symptoms of disease; no eye or nostril discharge, no problems breathing, no weight loss or gain, and seemingly in good physical condition. I’d considered the possibility that she had a brain tumour or some kind of intracranial pressure, and this definitely fell in line with that.
Anyway, I scooped up the poor little mite and brought her inside. It was a cool day and the wind was quite sharp; I wanted her somewhere warm and safe. My downstairs bathroom became a hen hospital.
I set up a small dog crate lined with newspaper and soft towels for nesting, and settled her inside. She had a hard time standing, and would sit back oddly on her legs. It looked like she didn’t have control of her feet, and I noticed she seemed unable to feel if her toes became trapped under one another.
It occurred to me that it was possible she was severely dehydrated or even hypoglycemic as the biggest challenge to blind chickens is finding food and water reliably. So I mixed up an electrolyte solution, a mineral/vitamin solution, and a honey solution. Over the course of the day, I syringe fed her some of each every few hours, and made a soft food available to her at all times with fresh water. She didn’t really like being syringe fed but wouldn’t eat or drink on her own.
When she failed to show improvement, I called my vet and arranged to bring her in the next day to be humanely euthanized.
I considered doing it myself, at home, but the only method that was recommended in various chicken health guides (including my trusty ‘the chicken health handbook’!) is cervical dislocation, i.e. breaking their neck. For chickens, you are supposed to hold their neck behind the head, hold just above their feet, and ‘stretch’ the bird until you feel and hear the head separate from the spine.
I considered it for all of a second and just couldn’t do it. It’s too hands on, and just the idea of it made me legitimately nauseated. I already have a weird issue with certain body sounds (like food chewing!) and bone cracking is right up there with things that will make me lose my lunch in a heartbeat. If I had access to some kind of drug to humanely euthanize at home, I’d be all over it. That wouldn’t bother me beyond the usual upset of having to end a life.
So we went to my avian vet, who is awesome, and he agreed with my assessment of the situation. We did discuss Big Red’s passing from a few weeks ago, and whether they could be connected, but he agreed that it seemed unlikely. Although he cautioned that any further losses would need to be investigated, ideally with blood work, and I agree.
Then he stepped me through the process. Usually, when a beloved pet is euthanized, your vet will give you the option of staying with them for the whole process. For birds, my vet does things a little differently. Birds often move violently after death. You're probably familiar with the expression "running around like a chicken with its head cut off", and this is based on the real phenomena of aggressive movement after death in birds. Because this can be extremely upsetting to witness, my vet suggests the following: give a sedative to the bird in the exam room, and allow the owner to hold her until she is relaxed and/or asleep. He then takes the bird into the back room, gives a puff of anesthetic gas to ensure she is still, allowing him to find the vein needed to give the final injection that stops her heart. Once she is dead and still, he returns the body to the owner, should they wish to see her one more time.
This was my experience, and I had a harder time with it than I expected.
I think I’ve mentioned before that my big flock is rather wild. They were raised in a 100+ free ranging flock with minimal handling so they’ve never been drawn to people beyond seeing us as a source of food. Very few of them will tolerate handling, and there’s actually 3 that are a nightmare to catch! I’ve always been okay with this, although recent events have made me realise that having handlable chickens makes monitoring for various health issues so much easier.
Ginger has always been a little more interested in people. She’s never been hard to catch and will tolerate cuddling for brief periods of time, especially if there are treats involved. She has always been very curious about what I am doing, and would follow me around as I worked in the run. She also had a habit of pecking any part of me she could reach; my boots, my legs, my hands, my butt!! I became convinced she thought I was literally made of food. It was endearing and annoying, and occasionally painful!
Despite all of this, I really didn’t think I was especially attached to her, until that moment when I was sitting in the vet’s office, her painless passing now my decision and responsibility. I thought I had emotional distance but should have known better! I am a huge marshmallow person. I talk about this in detail on the podcast so I won't rehash it all now. Short version: there were tears.
I buried her at home, behind the leaf/compost pile, with a view of the big coop.
In less depressing news, my last hive inspection went very well! I removed the Apivar strips that I had installed to handle varroa mites, checked each colony's overall health, and did a mite check to see how effective the treatment had been. The results were, overall, good!
Hive #1 (Cerridwen) had a mite count of 5:300 in Aug, and now had a 0 read! As I've mentioned, this doesn't mean the colony is actually free of all mites but it does mean the load is undetectable, and that is excellent.
Hive #2 (Macha) had a mite count of 2:300 in August, and now has a read of 3:300. I did not expect to see an increase in mites but it makes sense. Around the high temps of July, Macha had ceased laying for a period of time, causing me a great deal of anxiety. She picked up again as the temps cooled and had a big burst in brood population after I installed the Apivar strips. More brood = more opportunities for mites to breed. So an increase isn't surprising, even with the treatment. Apivar relies on the bees walking over it and distributing the active ingredient through the brood area and hive to work. As the population was small when installed, it's likely this hive never got a full 'dose' of the treatment, as less tiny feet were walking around. Since 3:300 is a safe threshold going into winter, I will take it!
Hive #3 (Morrigan) had a mite count of 8:300 in Aug, and now has a read of 4-5:300 (I couldn't quite tell). I would have preferred to see this lower but it's still a decent reduction before winter.
Not long after this inspection, it got rather cold. We had frost in the mornings and temps in the low 40s at night. Some days, we barely got above mid-50s, and so the hives became very quiet. It was disconcerting for this newbee! One day when it was mild, I cracked the top to peek in. There were no bees in the top box because they had clustered down below with the brood. The hive was so quiet and there was no gust of heat and scent when I opened it up. I did not like this! It’s normal behaviour, of course, but I promptly went inside and ordered myself a stethoscope for the winter!!
On the next warm day, the girls were out foraging. I’d made some heavy syrup in preparation for a nice enough day to open up the hives again. It was really lovely to open things up, immediately see the girls at work, and feel that burst of warm, sweet air. I really love the smell of an active hive. It’s hard to describe; warm, softly sweet, a little musky, a little animalic. There’s nothing quite like it!
So, overall, things are on track for winter (I think/hope!). It’s been hard for me to decide exactly when I should bundle the girls up since our days have been surprisingly mild, even if the nights have sometimes dropped into the 30s. I asked a local keeper what she uses as her cue, and she told me she waits until the days are consistently in the 40s, with the nights in the 30s. That makes sense. I’ll likely do the same. Of course, I’ll share some pics when I’ve got the hives winterized!
There’s still time to get a few things done before winter is fully upon us, and I’ll update as I get around to them.
Thanks for reading! Please do check out the podcast, and let me know what you think. I've noticed that I can't respond to comments directly when left on the blog (but Wix says they're working on it) so please consider sending me an email at homesteadhensandhoney@gmail.com, leaving a comment on my Instagram account, or hitting me up on Twitter. You can also find me on Facebook!
Until next time, remember, hug your hens and then wash your hands! Cheers.
