Washing Birdies (again)

I'm getting birds ready for the show in Fallon, Nevada, this week. Washing birds is really pretty easy, and most of them enjoy it once the initial shock of being wet has passed.

It's really pretty simple. Hold the chicken firmly by the feet, test the water to be sure it's the right temperature, and wash away. The most complicated part is deciding which of 5 different shampoos and washing detergents is right for each bird. 

Once a bird is washed, it gets rolled up in a towel to sit for a while.

We call this "chicken burrito." The birds love it. Really, they do. They're warm and cozy and have their buddies nearby. The towel picks up the excess water and makes it easy to hold the bird while I trim beaks and nails and clean their legs thoroughly. Dirt can get under the scales on their legs, even when they've been kept on shavings all their little lives.

Then they go into the "apartments" to dry for the night.

I do this in the house. Some people have an outside room to wash chickens. At my house it all happens in the kitchen and the den. I used to put the cage on the dining room table, but now it's a little more out of the way. For some breeds you might use a hair dryer to fluff them up. My birds are all supposed to have relatively tight feathers, so I let them dry naturally.

The white Old English bantams always have to be washed before a show. The Dominique bantams usually only get washed once in the show season. After that I can just wash their feet and legs. They're much easier to condition. I washed a bunch of them two weeks ago, before Paso Robles. It was a warm, sunny day, so they got to dry outside on the lawn.

The kitten is up on the table because he's "helping."  

Cat Holiday

Today I will give all the cats an extra treat. We celebrate in honor of:

Gollie

Carla

Mollie

Rosie

Linda

The Kitten

and all the other feral kitties who have spent some time here.

Velcro was never a feral cat, she was dumped near the Sloughhouse Inn as a very tame, very young kitten by some heartless bozo. She'll get an extra treat, too, though. She's patiently put up with all the others who have come and gone.

If you have feral cats in your area, please practice TNR ... Trap, Neuter, Release ... it's only $15 on Sundays at Sacramento County SPCA, and they'll loan you a trap.

Whatever you do, don't dump your cats in Sloughhouse. You might be trapped and neutered, too. The world doesn't need more people like you.

Cat Mop

I just finished mopping the counter with a cat. The kitten, to be more exact.

He's been running through the house at night, knocking things over, rearranging the couch pillows, and pulling toilet paper off the roll, then shredding it all over the living room carpet. He has been a teenage delinquent.

Is this Charlie reincarnated?

Charlie, in his younger years

The Kitten

Charlie had many "tricks." Some were fun. He could fetch as well as a terrier, he would drape himself around your neck like a scarf. Some were not fun. No cup or glass of liquid was safe near him. If he couldn't get his narrow little nose into it to sample your coffee or other drink, he'd put his foot into the container and tip it over. Then he'd lap the liquid off the counter.

This morning I had gone around the house and cleaned up last night's kitten play messes. I had poured a large glass of water and set it on the counter while I turned my back to do something else. 

Splash.

When I turned around, the entire glass was tipped over. Water was running everywhere - under the microwave, through a stack of mail, and around the puzzled kitten on the counter who was licking his wet paw.

I'd had enough. I grabbed the kitten, turned him upside down, and used him like a sponge on the puddle. Then I put him down to reflect on the lesson he'd just learned. Then I got some towels to actually soak up the mess. Then I got some bandaids.

Disclaimer: No kittens were harmed making this blog post. As soon as he licked himself dry, the kitten was back on the counter, looking for more trouble.

Who is this?

Every afternoon the outside cats start to gather near the front door. They aren't intrusive, they aren't demanding. They just don't want to be left out when I show up with their dinner.

Who is this, waiting at the bottom of the old lady's steps?

It's the sisters, Mollie and Rosie. They're the survivors of Carla's brood from last year. And they are soon joined by their mama on the way to the wood shed.

As I walk around the corner of the house carrying their food, they're like a pod of dolphins, winding around each other, circling my feet, squeaking excitedly. It takes me twice as long to get there because I have to be careful not to trip on them.

Today when I put their food on their tray, they hung back, like something was wrong. "Uh, oh," I thought. "Something else is in the wood shed." I hoped it wasn't a rabid raccoon or something.

Finally I saw it in the dark corner. It was big and striped and very quiet. I might have mistaken it for a raccoon except it had white feet. When I called "kitty" it came.

Rosie and Molly put together probably don't make a package as big as this big tom cat. The girls seemed to already be acquainted with him. Usually they don't tolerate anyone outside of their little family at the feed bowl. Linda, for example, has to sneak in and eat when they're finished.

Sigh. Another trip to SPCA, something the cat's previous owner could probably have managed easier than me. SPCA is on the outskirts of town and they probably had to drive within a mile of it to get out here and dump this guy. He's tame, I can pet him. I'll check around the neighborhood first, though, to make sure he doesn't belong to someone else.

Paso Robles Show

My birds got Best and Reserve of Breed at the Paso Robles Show.

Best of Breed was #37, a cockerel.

Reserve of Breed was #33, a pullet.

We took 10 birds to show, 8 Dominique bantams and 2 Old English bantams.  In cockerels, my birds were 1st through 5th. My pullets got 1st, 3rd, and 4th.

Who is "we"? Carlotta went to the show with me. It's a long drive and sure was nice to have company. This is Carlotta's third show, and she's getting to be a very able assistant. She can even catch the cockerels in their show cages and drag them out through the tiny door without damaging feathers.

This show released the birds at 7 a.m. on Sunday, so we had time to take the long way home. We went from Paso Robles through Kettleman City, then across 99 to Hwy. 49. Hwy. 49 is a route that takes you along the top of the foothills all across the historical gold country. It also is the route to Yosemite park. The park is closed because of the morons who are running the government, so the winding route was almost devoid of traffic. That's a good thing because there are some scary canyon roads that are best driven without being tailgated by speeders.

Carlotta and I didn't take any travel photos. Neither of us had done a very good job combing our hair, we just relaxed and had a good drive and yakked all the way. This time the subject was Zechariah Sitchin's ancient astronaut theory. One of us has actually seen a UFO. The other is quite envious.

We had a great time. So did the birds. Really. By the second morning, they were standing at their doors waiting for scrambled eggs (acquired at the hotel's breakfast counter) for breakfast.

Next show is in Fallon, Nevada. I hope it doesn't snow. The show was moved up a month because November has been snowy over the Sierras for the past couple of years. I totally hate driving in snow, even good times and great conversation can't fix that.

Very Chilly

How chilly was it yesterday?

Cold enough to make Velcro put up with a pushy kitten.

It's warmer today, she hates him again. Plus, I put a bag of pellets in the stove and started it for the season, so she doesn't need a kitten to keep her warm.

Broderick's Day