In a fowl mood

It’s now obvious that the eggs Maggie and Tu-Tu have been sitting on are never going to hatch, so we ejected the pair of them from the nest box to join the others in the garden.   This may account for Maggie’s bad mood.

Our friendly neighbourhood collared dove decided to reconnoitre the food situation.   He glided in towards the garden, spotted the chickens and glided out.   A little later he came for another look.   This time he landed on the wall – a good vantage point to survey the scene.   The chickens were all having a conference in the corner, so he seized the opportunity to come right into the garden and head for the dish of corn.   Big mistake!   Maggie spotted him and charged, feathers fluffed;  she was furious!  The dove took off as if the hounds of hell were after him, and he wasn’t far off the mark at that.   She was so cross she then went and attacked Fizz for not doing his job properly, and leaving flock protection to her.

A bit later on everyone was peacefully decimating the lawn, when all of a sudden Punk attacked Maggie.   She must have been out of her tiny mind!   It rapidly turned into full-blown fisticuffs, then Rebecca  joined in too.   Feathers flew in all directions and the rest of the flock legged it towards the fight so they could get a better look, or maybe even join in.   Maggie will take the world on – she backs down for nobody, no matter who, no matter how big.  The whole thing stopped as quickly as it started, but Maggie was still huffy.   There was a moment when it looked as if she was going have a go at Irene, but decided not to bother.

Maggie

We suspect all this was an attempted coup to try and oust Maggie from second place in the pecking order.   After all, for the past few weeks she had spent more time in the coop than out of it.   If so, it didn’t succeed.

Wakey, wakey, rise and shine

Our little flock got rather a surprise when the coop was opened up at 4.40 a.m. the other morning.

Rebecca bounded out, full of beans.   Always last to go to bed and first to get up – where does she get her energy?   She was quickly followed by Irene, who goes to bed early and gets up early.   She’s an Outdoor Girl and was happy to be in the fresh air.   Then there was a lull in the proceedings before a very bleary-eyed Titian staggered down the ramp.   

That was it.   No more chickens made an appearance.

A quick peep into the coop revealed that Fizz was fast asleep, totally unaware that his girls were on the move.   Pom-Pom opened one eye, then closed it again;  after all, she’s a lady of leisure and 4.40 a.m. doesn’t exist in her world.   Punk said something that sounded extremely rude, before returning to her dreams.   Maggie growled, Tu-Tu popped her head out from beneath Maggie’s wing and then quickly popped it back again.

By now, the kettle was boiling in the kitchen and it was time for the first cup of tea of the day.

Who needs shells?

Punk managed to lay two eggs in one sitting.   One was smaller than her usual offering and the other was smaller still.   She thought that was so clever that she didn't bother covering either of them in shell, she left them half-naked just covered in their membranes.   We opened them up and they were small but perfectly formed - well inside anyway.

Membranes crinkled from being picked up

Apparently laying eggs without shells is unusual, but can happen now and again;  unless the chicken in question appears ill, there's nothing to worry about.   Laying two eggs in one sitting is rarer still, but I have heard of other chickens who have done this.   We are certain this was Punk showing off because my son was around when she went into the coop, right through to when she came out.  He then went to collect her egg and it turned out to be eggs!

In case anyone is worried about her, she's quite fine and has been running around the garden this afternoon, happy as a sandboy.

Intrepid explorer

Titian finally plucked up the courage to go into the summerhouse and have a look round.   She'd been thinking about it for ages.   Whenever I had the doors open and the chickens were out in the garden with me, she would snack on the centaurea montana, then make her way over to the summerhouse.   She began by standing several yards away and peering in.   Every day she moved a little closer until eventually she was able to stand up against the step and get a good look at the interior.

Titian

Yesterday she plucked up the courage to go right inside.   Did she walk round the floor space in the middle - no. of course not!   This is Titian we're talking about.   She  just about crawled under  the wicker patio-type settee, then got stuck behind it.   She's a big girl, is our Rhode Island Red, and I had to admire her tenacity in getting behind the settee in the first place.   What determination!   But would she be able to get out again by herself.  

Knowing what an independent spirit she is, I stood quietly by ready to offer help if needed, but not interfering yet.   She finally worked out that if she breathed in deeply, she'd be able to squeeze past the back leg of the settee, make her way through the narrow gap between the wall and the settee - then Freedom!

I could swear she gave a sigh of relief when she got back into the garden.

A few feathers short of a duvet

Fizz is moulting and he looks absolutely ridiculous!   He has lost most of his beautiful tail feathers - just two  left.   I wonder if he'll lose his crest feathers too.   None of it really matters, because he seems blissfully unaware how daft he looks and behaves as if nothing untoward has happened.

Almost no tail left!

 

 

 

 

 

Latest brooding news

Basically, there isn't any.   Furthermore, we suspect there won't be any happy events from this clutch of eggs since they've been brooded for well over the usual length of time.  

Either Fizz is infertile or he's not doing his job as well as we thought - it's difficult to be sure about the latter since his exuberant tail feathers hide all the action.   There is an element of blame attached to the ladies concerned too. We've sometimes found eggs that weren't under nice warm bits of either Maggie or Tu-Tu.

I shall sit them all down later today and discuss the joys of barbecues! 

PS  Before anyone shouts at me - I don't eat my chickens

Dietary foibles

It turns out that it's not just our lot that are a bit potty.

Yesterday I was told about an ex battery hen who waits until she thinks her owners aren't looking, checks to make quite sure they are unaware of her intentions, then sneaks into their kitchen and gobbles up the cat food!

The cat who owns the food once brought a load of frog spawn into the house which its owner stepped in on a midnight trip to the kitchen.   Great stuff!!!