I'm not the most observant chicken mama. I feed them, give them the occasional treat, clean their coop, collect their eggs and, other than that, not much else. I let them roam as long as they don't eat my garden and sometimes forget to lock them away at night. But, somehow, they're still alive and kicking and laying eggs.
Yesterday I took them out a half a watermelon as a little treat. Those girls love their fruit and on a warm day, it seemed like just the ticket. I was on my way to run - don't even get me sidetracked with that thought - and just popped real quick into the coop. As Snow White was pecking at the juicy pink flesh of the melon, I couldn't help but notice she'd lost tail feathers exposing redden and swollen bare skin.
It looked awful.
I spoke to Tara who told me to check for mites. Two hours later, Steve and I had set up a chicken washing assembly line, complete with towels, a blow dryer, and mite powder.
The poor things were being eaten alive.
We dunked and scrubbed.
The girls were bemused.
We towel dried and then, hanging them upside down by their feet to access their fluffy body, I used my blow dryer give them a decidedly poofy new 'do.
The girls were beyond bemused.
It looks like Sunday will be a day of super coop cleaning and freshening and bathing at the Hen Spa.
And it looks like I can add "chicken washer" to my resume.
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