An Ode to Artemis

I'm not in a good place at the moment. Last Thursday (3rd September 2015) was a bad day for me. I had to have my prize rooster and the love of my girls' life euthanised because he broke his leg during a fight with Peeps, the other rooster in the flock.

Now we all know it's not a good idea to have two roosters together, but I did not know Peeps was a rooster when I rescued him from certain death as a two-day old. He grew up in my studio with Snoodles and when they were both big enough to join the flock, they went outside. Of course Artemis tolerated the youngster, but always letting him understand who's actually King of the roost. And Peeps always obliged, keeping his distance and staying out of harm's way.

Artemis surveying his dominion from his favourite perch, keeping an eye on the girls

But as time progressed and Peeps got bigger and stronger, he wasn't so keen any more to give way and every now and then he would challenge the king, but always ended up retreating to a safe corner.

Artemis has seen it all, been there, done that, sending other rivals packing in great haste. During one such altercation with a previous rooster, Mr. Chook, for whom I had to find a new home because of the constant fighting, Artemis's top part of his beak was broken almost completely off, just hanging by a thread. I glued it back on with some plastic putty and luckily it took and grew back on, the plastic putty dropping off after a few weeks.

Injuries sustained with an earlier altercation with Peeps

Soon he was a good as new and ruling the roost once again with an iron claw.

Artemis was an excellent husband and provider, always finding the best tit-bits and passing them on to one of the girls. Here Hetty came rushing after he found a nice juicy cutworm in the compost heap.

Artemis strutting his stuff on the patio

Artemis surrounded by some of the girls after he called them for a tasty snack he had found

Artemis in full glorious colour after a successful molt

Beauty in motion

Artemis taking one of his few well-deserved breaks after all the girls had settled down for a snooze under the plants

Artemis was also the inspiration for many a sketch I made of him and the girls, who can resist such beauty?

Artemis with his broken leg

After hearing quite a raucous outside one afternoon, the girls cackling and screaming, I went out to see what's happening and everybody was clustered in the centre of the lawn (including Peeps), but Artemis was nowhere to be seen. After a search, I found him under some plants, lying down with his leg at a terrible angle and his comb and neck feathers covered in blood. Obviously there had been a fight, as Peeps was also covered in blood.

I carefully picked Artemis up, hurrying inside with him to assess the damage. After cleaning off all the blood, he seemed perfectly fine, apart from his loosely dangling leg. There was no external damage, but I decided to take him to the vet anyway for an examination. The prognosis was not good and all he could do was give some pain killers and an anti-inflammatory.

For two weeks I kept a close eye on Artemis, despairing at the fact that he could hardly get to the food or water, struggling along, hopping short distances on his one leg and supporting himself with his left wing, tiring quickly and lying down again. During this time, he and the girls were kept in the run with Peeps being banished to a separate coop until Artemis was better.

By last week Thursday, after almost 3 weeks, there was absolutely no improvement and I could feel that he had lost weight. Off to the vet again. It was abvious I had two choices - either have him put down or carry on trying. I contemplated the consequences, both for him and me, if I should go that route of trying, and although my heart was screaming "keep on trying! keep on trying!", I decided that it was not fair to Artemis and that it was better to have him put to sleep. 

I held him in my arms as the vet administered the injection and cried and cried as he flapped his last death throes.

Peeps has now taken over the perch from which to keep an eye on the girls and is trying his best to meet the high standards Artemis set, taking little snacks from me and now calling the girls to come and get it in stead of gobbling it up himself like previously.

And so goes the cycle of life on a smallholding...

A loving moment - Kiep, Artemis's favourite wife, gently preening his wounds after a fight with Mr. Chook

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Learning from the chooks

I've learnt so much over the past few years from Solly's chickens. His chooks free range all over our plot and my garden and I've seen them lay eggs, hatch their babies and then watched as they grow up into teenagers and then fully integrate into the community. Of course I have my favourites, especially the abandoned or injured ones I rescue, nurse back to health and most of the time introduce them back into the flock.

Too many roosters!

Can't actually speak about a flock - they always seem to form several flocks. Many, too many, of the newly hatched chicks turn out to be roosters. And you know what happens when there are too many roosters! As teenagers they start squaring up to test their strength and then, as they come into adulthood, the serious fighting  for the available hens starts.

The hens watch, apparently unconcerned, from the side-lines, but one can't be fooled by their disinterest. Each fight is keenly watched and they have a keen eye for spotting the winner(s), who quickly claim their prize, with the chosen hens seamlessly falling into line with their chosen mates. Each rooster then has his own flock and they tend to group together and keep away from one another's territory. My heart always breaks for the losers, who end up all lonely, hanging around the perimeter, hoping for a hen to perhaps spot them. But beware them if they try to approach a specific flock's hen, she puts up one hell of a noise, alerting her rooster, who immediately puts an end to such daring cheekiness!

Soon after, the egg-laying starts, laying an egg a day until she feels she has enough to start a family and then serious business of sitting for plus/minus 21 days starts.

Mommy with her four newly-hatched babies

While the hen has her newly hatched chicks, she stays away from the flock, leading her chicks around, showing them them the territory and where all the very best tit-bits are to be found. During that time she even ignores her chosen rooster, solely concentrating on her babies and lovingly taking care of them.

But here comes the heart-break bit. When the little chicks are only a couple of weeks old, she starts showing an interest in the rooster again, with him leading her around, pointing out some lovely possible nesting places. She then totally abandons her babies (and they are FAR too young!), spending time with the rooster and even grabbing the little tit-bits I give them for herself, even pecking them and telling them to get out of the way. Then for days I have to listen to their pitiful little cheeps as they constantly call for her in their confusion, not understanding what is going on. Fortunately this unhappiness only lasts for two weeks or so and they soon learn to fend for themselves.

The four confused little chicks all on their own in the garden

 They would hang around the garden gate and as soon as I make an appearance, would follow me all over

Then, as soon as the hen is "free" from her chicks, it's a big happening in the community. Everybody will intently watch her choice of a new nest and when the first egg is laid, everybody, including the roosters, who stand watch over the event, will noisily cackle, crow and rejoice in the event, sending the little chicks scattering in fear from all the noise. And believe me, it's a racket!

One of the hens loudly voicing her discontent that her favourite nest is occupied by someone else

The intruder sits motionless, hoping nobody will spot her!

Choice of nest for any hen is another matter of contention. They all have a favourite nest and heaven forbid if anyone else dares to occupy it! Even though there are plenty of nests around, they will stand in line for that one nest, all the while trying to intimidate the occupier with insistent, loud cackling.

Another rooster standing watch as his hen searches for a perfect nesting spot

Solly's chickens are not to be confused with MY chickens living in my garden. They all originally came from Solly's stock, but never mix with their "wild" cousins, as part of my garden is walled and keeps Solly's crowd at bay. Just a bit on Solly - he is our general mechanic and handyman, living a couple of hundred meters away from the main house, where he has got his own little vegetable patch, flower garden and chicken coop, but for some reason, most of his chickens prefer to live in my back garden, nesting wherever they feel comfortable and following me around whenever I go into the back-yard. They seem to know that I know each of them and that each of them have got their own name. Or maybe it's just that they know that they are destined for the pot at Solly's place...

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Kentucky, my pet Rooster

Hope is a thing with feathers. 

That perches in the soul. 

And sings the tunes without the words. 

And never stops at all. 

- Verse from Emily Dickinson poem 

Watercolour on Bockingford

Besides my love for all animals, and for birds in particular, my love affair with chickens started in the late 70’s, when we bought our first smallholding (Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa) and, of course, the first thing anybody on a smallholding does, is get chickens, ducks and geese!

After a couple of months of settling in on our new smallholding, I was given some Bantam chickens by a neighbour, and there was a mad scramble to erect some chicken coups. They were prolific little breeders and soon the yard was full of mothers with little chicks , all running like mad for a tit-bit when they see me.

One newly-hatched little fellow, however, seemed not to be able to keep up with the rest, so I duly ‘rescued’ him, carrying him around in a basket and feeding him at every opportunity. The result was Kentucky, the most beautiful specimen of a rooster I had ever seen, with bright, coppery feathers adorning his neck and the most beautiful blue, black and burgundy tail feathers a rooster could wish for! Although he ruled his chosen hens with an iron claw, he always was a bit of a loner, spending hours following me around, hens in tow, or roosting on the back of the couch in the lounge (with lots of newspapers on the floor!)

He spent many years with me, preferring to roost in the tree outside my bedroom window, in stead of the chicken coup with the rest, and my heart was broken when I went out one morning and found part of him under the tree, half eaten, killed by a Genet during the night. But he lives in my heart forever and I’m sure he’s still watching over me from chicken heaven.

My apologies that I haven't got any photographs, but this was in the days before I had a computer, wasn't much into photography and, of course, wasn't blogging yet!

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It's Friday!

I crept out of bed early with the sound of the roosters crowing to one another - 4am - put on the kettle, made my coffee and came to the computer. By the time hubby surfaced around 6.30am, I had already updated a couple of blogs, up-loaded some artwork to RedBubble, let the chooks out, fed Solly's chickens and filled all the bird feeders in the garden. Time for another cup of coffee.

It's the end of the week and the weekend is lying ahead as an extra bonus, the hours are mine to do with as I please. No need to rush and open the doors for business, no staff coming in, just two lovely days of spending time with my chooks or whatever else takes my fancy.

But today ended up being busier than usual, with a constant stream of customers and eventually, when I did manage to join Chrissie in the garden, she informed me that Missy had been sitting in one place all morning. Very worried, I approached her to see what was the matter and was greeted by her screeching like a banshee! She fluffed herself in a threatening manner and I immediately knew what the 'problem' was - when I picked her up, I saw what all the melee was about - she was sitting on a couple of eggs. She had obviously been gathering them for some time and now she was broody and ready to stay with them till the little darlings hatched...

I remove all the eggs that my chooks lay - I've got nine roaming the garden, causing havoc, and I really can't afford to have any more. Missy obviously got sick and tired of me removing her eggs out of the nest boxes in the chicken coop and decided to do the sneaky thing and find a safe spot in the garden!

Missy looking on in disgust as I remove her eggs

And I have no idea how 6 eggs escaped our attention what with Chrissie regularly cleaning up and me watering the garden every couple of days. But the girls can be very innovative when it comes to hiding their eggs!

We spent another couple of minutes searching to see if there were any more stray eggs we might have missed and that sparked a major clean-up of areas trampled flat by the girls - it is just beyond and above me as to why they would like to sit ON TOP of the plants in stead of next to or under them... .

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Half a beauty!

Artemis during his moult. Half his cape and half his beautiful tail feathers are gone, but it won’t be long before they are all replaced by healthy, more beautiful than ever, new feathers!

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I can see the weekend from here!

Camera : Canon EOS 550D

Focal length : 300

F number : 7,1

Exposure time : 1/500

Artemis surveying my garden from his favourite vantage point. From here he can see the weekend coming, keep an eye on his girls and make sure nobody is doing anything untoward!

 

Artemis likes being on top of things! From here he can keep an eye on all the girls who are scattered all over the garden, much to his consternation.

Artemis surveying the world while Hettie contentedly scratches in the compost heap.

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Roosters really do know what time it is

My rooster Artemis announcing the start of day 

Normally, at 4am like clock-work, I'm awakened by Artemis announcing the start of another day. In summer it can be as early as 3am! This sets off ALL Solly's roosters and I can assure you, NOTHING can sleep through that racket! Their crowing has now set MY internal clock and I'm normally awake just before the crowing starts.

The rooster's morning cock-a-doodle-doo is driven by an internal clock, finds new research, suggesting that male chickens really know the time of day.

The study, detailed in the journal Current Biology, found that roosters put under constant light conditions will still crow at the crack of dawn.

Past studies have found that a myriad of animal behaviors are driven by an internal clock: at night, a dip in insulin causes humans to process food more slowly, and even blind cave fish use a circadian clock to tell time.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo' symbolizes the break of dawn in many countries," said study author Takashi Yoshimura of Nagoya University, in a statement. "But it wasn't clear whether crowing is under the control of a biological clock or is simply a response to external stimuli."

Because stimuli throughout the day — such as car headlights — will set off a rooster's crow at any time, it was also possible that increasing light was the trigger for the cock's crows.

To find out Yoshimura and his colleagues put 40 roosters in a setting with constant light, then recorded when they crowed.

Sure enough, the chickens crowed at daybreak regardless of the light conditions. The roosters also crowed at other times of day and in response to light and the crows of their fellow chickens, but those behaviours were much stronger at daybreak. The findings suggest that an internal circadian clock, rather than external conditions, drive the behavior.

Read more at Mother Nature Network

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The dispute

This is Artemis, still suffering from the aftermath of a fight with Chook, my other rooster. These two have been at loggerheads for a long time now, with Chook always being the underdog and taking flight whenever Artemis came near. A couple of days ago, Chook decided ‘enough is enough!’ and turned and faced his aggressor with dire results.

Both suffered extensive injuries (they both have extremely long and dangerous spurs) and it ended up with Chook pinning Artemis, totally exhausted, flat on the ground and not letting go of his grip. We had to separate the two and Chook is currently in the ‘holding pen’ with me deciding the fate of the two – one has to go and it’s a difficult decision I’m not able to make easily. Chook is the friendliest of the two, coming right up to me and begging for a tit-bit, following me around to see if I have more, and Artemis is the beautiful ladies’ man, preferred above Chook by all the hens, who adore and follow him everywhere, succumbing to his every whim.

Artemis and Chook wanting to continue the territorial dispute...

Chook keeping a watchful eye open for Artemis...

What to do...?

Canon EOS 550 D – Sigma 70-300 Zoom lens – 9’ manual focus
Location : Tarlton, Gauteng, South Africa

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