The 4 Reasons Why Otto Isn't a Good Guard Dog

This is what we do Sunday evenings, torture chickens with leftover supper.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pbMUcMTiZig

Otto is a wonderful picture buddy.  But, he's still in the "doghouse" for eating one of my chickens recently.

I'm tired.

What on earth are you doing?

Look! Chickens!

Shucks! They're inside the fence.

Pecking Order

This morning I had the "great chicken escape".  I wasn't too careful closing the coop door when I came in, so all the hens ran out in seconds. I was gone all day to church and then to see my aunt in Sioux Center.  When my family came home the coop door was closed.  Dad told me to put my chickens in so our dog, Otto, could go outside.  I opened the garage door and some hens came running to me.  I called out to the hens and bunches of chickens came popping out from under trees.  Opening the door, they all marched in looking skimpy  because their feathers were soaked. Checking the baby chicks I noticed one of the broilers was bloody in the tail and wings and the other broilers were bloody too, but not as bad.  I immediately put the broiler in another box and called Grandma (I had orders to call her immediately if the chicks started pecking on each other).  Grandma inspected the chicks for awhile trying to find the culprit responsible for the pecking.  None of the chicks did anything so she started putting some Vicks on 3 of the 4 broilers.  It smelled awful ~ poop and Vicks do not go well together through the nose!  She stood there, and every time one of the Rhode Island Reds pecked at a broiler, she said excitedly, "Mmmm, did that taste good chicky?" It was funny!  We ended up putting the 2 badly beat up broilers in the house.  They'll stay there until their feathers grow out.  Beatrice calls them the "Blood Brothers".  I don't even know if they're both boys or not.

Grandma inspecting chicks.

 

My aunt is getting rid of stuff, my brother picked out an old hat, I wore it because it was raining.

Grandma and I pointing out which broiler should be put in the house.

The broilers are pooped out!

New Recruits

Grandma picked up my chicks from Bomgaars Wednesday morning.  My sister and I picked them up after school, receiving critical instruction to keep the chicks exactly at 80 degrees, to not put sugar in their water, if the chicks start to pick each tell her so that she can put salve on them so it tastes really bad when they bite each other again, and she asked if I had a chick waterer ( Grandma has given me 5 already!).  Saturday morning I took pictures of them after my brother's friends came and played with them.  The chicks were pooped!

Again this year we had some bee keepers drop off there bee hives in our field.  So bees are going to be all over the place this summer.

The chickens love to roam the outdoors, and torture the dog.

Death Bells of Another Chicken

This weekend I cleaned out the chicken coop for chicks coming on Thursday.  I unloaded all the junk in the coop, washed the feeders and water jugs, threw stuff away, killed a wasp, and tossed Dad's Mountain Dew bottles. 

All done!

Saturday morning I found chicken feathers on the front porch.  Otto killed another chicken, only one.  

Dad put Otto in his cage.  Whenever I walk by and yell at him he goes in his house of shame.