Submitted by Kaare Askildt, former Preeceville area farmer in training. This one of a series on getting settled in Hazel Dell.
Who said that turkeys are dumb? A rural myth has it that some turkeys drown when it rains, as they look to the sky with their beaks open, wondering why the water falls from the clouds! They accumulate too much water in the gullet because they don't swallow, they can't breathe and then "drown."
However, we must have gotten the smarter version. They are only 2 1/2 weeks old, and when Marion opened the turkey door (flap) on the coop, they ventured out into the yard, hopped up on the old truck canopy that is in the yard for the birds to use as shelter from the sun or heavy rain, and then took flight over the fence and into the mysterious realm of the paddock, spooking the horse in the process.
Our dog Lady was in her element as she carefully retrieved each bird, and delivered them to Marion. She carried them very gently in her mouth, and the only "damage" was the elevated heartbeat of the birds, who might have believed that they were becoming instant dog food. Marion noted that all the turkeys were caught and accounted for. Fortunately we have some chicken wire which we stretched across the turkey yard, foiling any future attempt of exploratory turkey flights!
However, the turkeys did not give up! The veggie garden next to their yard was too much of a lure, so they figured out that they could climb up on the bottom wooden crossbar on the man gate to the turkey yard, and then squeeze their bodies through the upright boards. Those peas in the garden and the broad beet leaves were just succulent treasures calling out to them, and they must have figured that they would not be observed if they squatted down while nibbling. Marion happened to look out of the window, and saw the culprits, and their garden freedom came to a quick end. As soon as Marion showed up in the garden, the little birdies scampered for the main gate, and got back in their yard. Their new escape route was quickly blocked.
The second batch of broiler chicks flew into the post office earlier this week. Well, actually they arrived by ground transportation from Alberta. A corner of the coop was made nice and cozy for them, with a heat lamp, food and water. They are settling in just nicely, eating their food and drinking the water. We have already made room in the freezer for our yummy organic broilers. It takes a little effort to raise them ourselves, but we know what they have been fed, and the tender meat and wonderful taste makes it all worthwhile!
Ole the poultry farmer had a giant problem; chickens from his free ranging flock kept getting run over on the road that went past his farm. He called the local RCMP and discussed the matter with them. The cops decided to patrol the area with a laser radar gun, but even speed traps and tickets did not solve the problem, people just kept on driving fast when the cops were not there, and hitting his chickens. The cops even put up a sign that said "SLOW - CHICKEN CROSSING," but Ole just kept losing more chickens. Ole thought long and hard about the problem, made his own sign and never had another chicken fatality. Ole's sign said, "NUDIST COLONY AHEAD - WATCH FOR PEDESTRIANS CROSSING."
The following is a story about Sven and his egg business. Sven had a chicken farm, and was in the fertilized egg business. He had several hundred young layers, called pullets, and eight or ten roosters. The rooster's job was to fertilize the eggs.
Old Sven kept detailed records, and any rooster that didn't perform well went into the soup pot and was replaced. Checking on the roosters all day took an awful lot of Sven's time; so after some contemplation, Sven got a set of tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone; that way Sven could tell, from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now he could sit on the porch with his laptop computer, and fill out an efficiency report simply by listening to the bells.
Sven's favorite rooster was old Brewster. A very fine specimen he was too. But on this particular morning, Sven noticed that Brewster's bell had not rung at all! Sven put down his laptop and went to investigate. The other roosters were chasing pullets, bells a-ringing! The pullets, hearing the roosters coming, would run away and seek cover. But to Sven's amazement, Brewster had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring. He would sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one and repeat the maneuver. Sven was so proud of Brewster that he entered him in the county fair. Brewster was an overnight sensation.
The judges not only awarded him the No Bell Piece Prize but also the Pulletsurprise.
