I'm officially the crazy chicken lady

Just as we are reaching the point of the year where I am going to be downsizing the flock before winter, we had hens decide to sit on eggs.  First it was the silkie hen.  I went to pick eggs one day and noticed she hadn't moved in a day.  The way she was hunkered down, I panicked and thought she was dead.  After trying to move her "dead" body with the shovel, she let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she was indeed not dead as she attacked the shovel with all the fierceness of a mother protecting her "young".  Unfortunately, true to new momma fashion, she had one egg under her.  She was a young hen and we believe she literally had laid her first egg and decided to go broody and try to hatch it out.  I didn't want her to go through all that sitting for one egg, so with Tim's help, I distracted her and shoved 5-6 more eggs under her.  We kept a close eye on her and she was a great broody, carefully keeping herself on those eggs day in and day out, until one day when she took a few minutes to grab a bite to eat and the coop door blew shut on her.  By the time I discovered that and went to let her back in, the eggs were cold and I assumed no good anymore.  She immediately sat on them again but I gave her a day or two and I was going to toss them.  Imagine my surprise when, instead, she greeted us with 4 baby chicks rolling around under her.  Yay, chicks.  But meanwhile...

Back in the chicken coop, the bigger black hen had also decided to try sitting on her eggs.  This was the same hen that sat on 20 eggs this summer and hatched out ONE.  That one chick made it one day before drowning.  We didn't have high hopes for this hen to be successful but her tote got moved with the silkie and her chicks into the "chick room".   Lo and behold a few days later and she hatched out 5 chicks of her own.  Now silkie hen is a good momma, but black hen is fierce.  Between the two of them, they divided out their corners of the chick room and protected their territory like boxers in a ring.  Each hen had a mutual respect for the hostility of the other and things seemed to be going along swimmingly.

And then Tim comes to me to tell me he found my hamburg hen, Jelly, in the hay room.  We were pretty sure she was dead.  We knew she was going in the hay room regularly.  We had no idea she had crawled back in as far as she could, about a foot from the ceiling and a good 20 feet back into the room and decided to start sitting on eggs.  She wasn't dead, but doing a darn good job of playing dead as she sat on those eggs.  I started panicking about what would happen if those eggs hatched.  I had visions of the chicks dropping between the bales and rotting.  (Insert gagging emoji/gif or whatever.)  I had visions of being attacked by Jelly as I tried to move her, her eggs or the bales to try to get her into a better place to hatch them out.  So we left her and slowly started to use the bales between the door and her so that we could hopefully get to them before hatching day.  We made it.  Kind of.  And then she started hatching those eggs.  In the hay mow.  Oh sigh....  Again, with Tim's help, I tried to check how many had hatched.  You laugh at a grown woman being afraid of a couple pounds of chicken, but let me just tell you, if you have never tangled with a hen protecting her chicks, you have no idea how terrifying they can be.  And keep in mind I was about a foot from the ceiling and surrounded by hay bales.  I was more than a little claustrophobic and slightly more terrified than I probably needed to be.  But she had hatched out 6 already, on her nest of 18.  I told Tim we would give her another day and then we would have to move her before the chicks started exploring.

Fast forward to time's up, this morning.  I tried to sneak up behind her and grab her, and very nearly got my hand pecked off for the favor.  So we had to use the net to catch her and then grab chicks as quickly as we could before they rolled off the bales.  Quickly we relocated her and her chicks to the chick room.  There was a bit of a kerfuffle, but they seemed to settle in.  However, when I got back to the hay room and went to remove the eggs, I heard peeping.  Not chirping per se, peeping.  Yeah, there were more eggs waiting to hatch.  Sigh.  So now I was a baby chick murderer because there was no way Jelly was going to sit on those eggs in a strange room with strange hens and with 6 chicks to guard.  Thankfully I still had my friend's incubator so we frantically plugged it in, relocated the eggs and hoped for the best.  Whatever that meant, because what were we gonna do with more chicks?  But I refused to be a baby chick murderer.

Off I went to work with 14 eggs in the incubator, 6 new chicks in the chick room, and 9 slightly older chicks as well.  After a long and busy day at the restaurant, I came home to the great chicken disaster 2019.  Apparently the black hen went on a murderous rampage against Jelly's new chicks and had killed two and very nearly killed a third.  In a little bit of anger and a lot a bit of running out of options, I kicked the black hen out, thinking I would just raise her chicks in the chick room myself.  Two minutes later I caved as she was desperate for her babies and their sad cries hurt my heart.  So then I had to try to catch her chicks, who had decided to hide amongst the other chicks.  Here's what I want you to picture.  Me, dashing around a room about 8 feet by 5 feet as two pissed off hens take running, flailing leaps at me, sure that I'm trying to get their babies.  All the while the chicks are frantically running around and I'm struggling to even catch one, much less than all 5.  Through it all, momma black hen is madly clucking outside and Sophie is "guarding the door", apparently from a random drive by pecking?  Finally I got the last of her chicks outside with her.  Feeling bad for them, I put a tote for them to cuddle up in, gave them their own waterer and tried to brainstorm a way to feed them apart from the rest of the flock in the morning.

I headed into the garage to discover 3 new chicks in the incubator.  I didn't know whether to celebrate or sit down and put my head in my hands.  What was I to do with 3 more chicks?  Obviously hens don't appreciate chicks that aren't their own.  But I had this great idea.  Once Jelly was asleep, I'd just slip these new chicks in with her current chicks.  By morning they would all smell the same and she would just be back to 6, maybe 7, chicks and all would be well.  Into the chick room I went, with 3 baby flutter bugs in my hands.  Jelly was asleep and I went to sneak the little ones under her when all of a sudden she came awake with a flurry and a fierceness.  I quickly put the new chicks down with hers while she dashed around the room, upsetting the silkie and chicks started running every which direction.  Finally Jelly settled back down on her chicks, including the new ones, one of her chicks remained with the silkie's and I shut the door calling myself lucky not to have lost an eye after tangling with pissed off hens.  Again.  Feeling hopeful but worried about all the chicks making it through the night, I took the black hen in the tote and moved her and her chicks into a pony stall for the night and wearily trudged to the house.  As soon as I opened the garage door and headed towards the house I heard....

...another chick hatching in the incubator.

I give up.

What is Champ Show?

If you have friends who open show in the northern Midwest, your social media has probably been flooded with Champ Show posts the last few days.  And you’re probably wondering what in the heck is Champ Show?  Champ Show is short for the WSCA Championship Show.  But to explain further WSCA is Western Saddle Club Association and encompasses all of MN, lots of WI, and people come from IA and South Dakota/North Dakota to show as well.  In order to qualify for the Champ Show a competitor needs to place first or second under a WSCA judge in each event they wish to compete in before the end of August.  The competitors at Champ Show are typically the best of the best of many breeds, all under one roof and in one arena.  I give props to the WSCA judges who are trying to judge a class of apps, quarter horses, POA’s, Arabians, Morgans, you name it and judging them all according to their breed standard.  Not each other.  It isn’t an easy task. 

At one point, and it may very well still be, Champ Show was the largest open show in the nation.  The show takes place over 5 days, two for the pleasure events and 3 for games.  For the pleasure events, patterns are run side by side in the large coliseum at the MN State Fairgrounds in St Paul. Rail classes are run in "cuts" of around 25 horses each with everyone hoping to make the "call back" for the final cut.  All that being said, for many of us, Champ Show is the culmination of the season of showing, our "state championship" to compare to high school athletics.  But Champ Show is more than that too.

Champ Show is crazy.  There are so many horses in so many barns, people and trailers and vendors and families and campers and.... Every direction you turn there are sequins and bling, sparkles, show sheen and the scent of fly spray hangs in the air.  There are competitors from 7-70, lunging or warming up their horses.  Trainers barking commands or drying tears.  Moms and dads with the grooming totes ready for a final wipe down and checkbooks at hand for those last minute expenditures.  There are tears of joy, tears of disappointment, laughter, hugs and yes- some dirty glances at the competitor who cut you off or ran into you in the warm up.

Champ Show is more than that too.  Champ Show is where your competition for the summer becomes your family and you root for each other to beat out the best from other states, associations or districts.  The kid that you tried to edge out all summer becomes the one cheering the loudest for you when you get to make that walk of pride to get your ribbon or the one there with a hug of condolences when you don’t hear your number for call backs.  It's you guys against the rest of the upper Midwest. It's nice to have a few like minded people in your corner.

Champ is sleeping in a folding chair, holding your horse's head in your lap and long walks from your stall to the ring.  It’s patting your horse on a well done pattern and patting your horse for not freaking out at the cart pulled by a mini. It’s snacks and concession stand food, camping and needing a shower for 3, 4, 5 days straight.  It’s hauling buckets and hay, picking stalls and having your horse still finding that one pile you missed.  It’s pulled shoes and chiros, sniffles and missteps.

Champ is having the ride of your life and not hearing your number or it’s leaving it all in the warmup and having your horse look rank in the ring.  It’s your horse nailing an element of a pattern you never thought she’d do and then 5 seconds later acting like she’d never been asked to do something she’s done a thousand times. Its expectations and disappointment and surprises all in the space of minutes or seconds.  A roller coaster of emotions from the second you leave your home until the minute you arrive at home.  And still days later, I can’t believe that Champ Show 2019 is over.

What is Champ Show?  It’s impossible to explain to someone who has never been, but even more impossible to explain to someone who has never sat astride a horse.  It's Champ Show and some day I hope to be back.