Well, it looks like all the chickens to survive the dog attack last week will make it. We did loose one hen completely and the other chewed hen is still kind of shell shocked. She spends a lot of time in the rafters of the chicken coop, just pacing back and forth. I don't want to traumatize her anymore by pushing her off the rafters and down onto the floor. I'm sure she is eating and drinking (maybe in the mornings before I open the coop door?) because she's still alive. But she's very fearful. The big red rooster is back to his kingly place in the flock. He is not as majestic looking (IE no real tail feathers to speak of) but the hens don't seem to notice. If I walk up behind him and gently move the few tail feathers he still has, I can see the bite marks across his tail area and back.
They all seem to be healing with no signs of infection. The owners of the marauding dogs have not contacted me since they came to pick the beasts up the day of the attack. I guess the lives of a few neighbor's chickens aren't important enough to address even if they said they'd make restitution. Hmmmmmm. This is not over.
The one gallon of raw milk was awesome. But it stayed milk and didn't become butter or yogurt. It was just too good and we drank it. I did try and use the cream for whipped cream but it didn't whip up. It did make a nice pie (see post on Peanut Butter Pie), but didn't ever thicken up and become light and fluffy. I have to do some more research on fresh milk and by-products. But there's more milk to be had. Come Monday I'll have another gallon to experiment with! In the mean time, I took some small video footage of the chickens moving around the yard.
I love chickens. They are very peaceful. Between the quietness of our five meat rabbits, a single buck and his harem, and our small flock of laying hens and their husbands, we have the beginnings of our dream farm. The beginnings of clean, quality food production. It's wonderful.