Chicken and Egg - Janice Cole [82]
I read that Vaseline is good for protecting chicken combs from freezing. Each breed has a different type of comb. Some are large and showy, others are small and petite. Roxanne has a single large, showy comb (naturally), while Cleo and Lulu have small petite pea combs. There are various evolutionary explanations as to why chickens developed combs, but the usual ones have to do with sexual attraction and regulating body temperature. I certainly didn’t want to take any chances that my ladies wouldn’t be sexually attractive, even though they would never meet a rooster in their lifetimes.
So I dutifully attempted to rub their combs each morning with Vaseline from a large jar I had purchased and labeled in large letters, Chickens Only, in case any of us decided to smear some on our own lips. I quickly found out my girls wanted no part of the Vaseline project, whether it was keeping them pretty or warm or neither. They squawked and squirmed until I finally gave up on the daft idea. For the record, with all the cold we had, none of my chickens’ combs froze, and they are all still strutting around alluringly, so I can’t tell you how cold it needs to get before a chicken’s comb turns white and then black with frost, although it does happen.
I’ve said I would never eat one of my chickens, but I am ashamed to say I did accidentally almost cook one of them. It happened one night. The girls’ sleeping arrangements never changed: Crazy Lulu was always first in at night and grabbed the prime spot under the heat lamp. Cleo was next and cozied in as much as she could. Our lady of the night Roxanne was always the last to bed, but she used her weight to push her way into a prime location in the coop. Cleo got pushed to the back, where she warmed herself on the heating pad. Crazy Lulu refused to budge, so Roxanne planted herself on top of Lulu and as close to the heat lamp as possible. As the temperature kept dropping, I turned up the heat lamp, trying to keep the coop cozy and warm. I was able to maintain a temperature of between forty-five and fifty degrees Fahrenheit, even with zero degree temps outside, and the chicks seemed happy. Until Black Sunday.
That morning, I let the chicks out into their run as normal, but I smelled something strange and I worried that somehow some of the electrical wiring had gone bad. I double-checked all my outdoor safety cords, and everything seemed fine. I came back outside with a breakfast treat for the girls, and as I set it down, I shrieked in horror: Roxanne had a huge black burnt spot on her back!
As I ran screaming, “Oh my god, I’ve burnt a hole in Roxanne!” my mind was racing: What should I do? What do you do for a burnt chicken? Can I bring her in to a vet, or would I be arrested for cruelty to chickens? Do I rub her with aloe vera or Bacitracin? Ice is good for burns. No, there’s no way she’s going to let me hold an ice pack on her in the middle of January!
I ran to my library of chicken manuals. A lot of good they were—none of the books offered any information. I was too embarrassed to call anyone. The Internet is anonymous, so I secretly looked up burnt chicken/chick, afraid of what kinky Web sites might turn up. I can honestly say there was nothing in any of the books or on the Internet on what to do for a burnt chicken. I must be the only one who’s ever had to worry about it. My search did come up with recipes for blackened