Another corpse
I came home to another dead chicken. It might have been dehydration, as they were out of water (though I'd filled it in the morning). It wasn't even stiff yet, but we weren't interested in salvage. They got a 5 gallon waterer this morning.
I'm losing my butt on these Cornish Cross, and the next batch will be White Rocks. Cornish are just not bred to be raised outside. They don't know enough to drink water when they're hot, or eat grass or bugs. They'll inhale all the chicken feed you want to give them. It's the only thing that motivates them; they're so like the typical American that it feels like cannibalism to eat them.
My maldesign of the chicken tractor didn't help. It needs a roof that will shed instead of collect water, a door, better wheels, and someplace to hang the feeder, which the chickens knock the top off of when it's on the ground. Almost 2 weeks ago I made the mistake of reaching over the 3-ft wall (instead of under) to pick up the detached bottom of the feeder. At one point I was almost upside down, when I heard and felt a crack...which was probably my rib. Doc wouldn't x-ray it as it wasn't relevant to treatment (which is pretty much nonexistent). I'm only now starting to feel halfway functional.
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