Look what I've found

Maggie seems to change her personality every week.   Last week she was a bad-tempered old bat, this week she's calling out to the others to let them know she's found food.   She doesn't eat it herself, just points out to the others that it's there.  

Maggie in a mellow mood

Needless to say, Irene responds as fast as she can.   Most of the others make their way over too, leaving Fizz wondering where all his girls have gone.

I wonder if Maggie has finally remembered that she was expecting to have chicks around her by now, and has decided that the other girls will make a good enough substitute.   There is another explanation.   Last week she did Fizz's job for him and protected the flock from a lone dove (see In a fowl mood, 12 July).  Maybe she's decided that by also taking over his task of indicating where food is, she'll be well on her way to becoming an honorary cockerel.   http://sciencefocus.com/qa/can-chickens-really-change-gender  makes interesting reading on that subject.

All by myself, don't wanna be ......

Rebecca is a real loner – right up until the time she realises she’s on her own!   Then she rushes off to join in with whatever Irene is doing.  

Rebecca

I like your stile

It was raining heavily nearly all day yesterday, so most of the chickens sheltered in the cage beneath the coop.  Irene, however, couldn't care less about bad weather and likes to be outside foraging around. 

Irene

She'd popped into the coop to lay a quick egg and on her way out, found herself part-way down the ramp with further progress blocked by Maggie, who was reflecting on the joy of staying dry.    Titian was conveniently standing on the floor just below her, perfectly placed for Irene to use as a stile.   Titian being a heavy, chunky girl herself, scarcely noticed when Irene stepped on her back, jumped to the floor and tootled off into the run.   

Morning all

There are definite individual rituals when I let the chickens out in the morning.   Mine is to sit on the wall in the run and watch them all for a little while.

First out is Rebecca, who can often only achieve that by squeezing past Irene on the way down the ramp.  She then hurtles to the far end of the run because she knows Fizz will come out next – and she knows he’ll have just one thing on his mind.   In the meantime, Irene checks the weather then wanders round the run looking for any leftovers from yesterday.   Hot on her heels will be Punk, who isn’t fully awake yet, but doesn’t want to be left behind.

Then there’s a lull in the proceedings before Titian makes her stately way out.   Her first job is always to come and tell me all the latest coop gossip – you’d be amazed how much goes on once they’re locked up for the night.

Tu-Tu suddenly realises she can see daylight through the pop-hole and rushes out, rushes round the run, chases the nearest Araucana, then settles down to eat her breakfast.   Maggie arrives next and heads for water for a long, long drink (there are 3 containers, but she likes the blue one best).

That’s usually it.  Seven chickens up and about, but where is No. 8?   Pom-Pom likes a lie-in as I’m very well aware, but I always open the coop up and check that she’s OK before I head back to the house and my own breakfast.

Scaling the heights

Anyone returning to the coop late in the evening has to somehow find a way over the top of Pom-Pom, who invariably settles down half in and half out of the pop-hole.   She faces outward, so navigating a way in is made more difficult because her crest greatly increases the height to be negotiated.   

 She always gets the mutters when we ease her inside the coop for the night, but she’s right there blocking the entrance again the next night.

Sweet dreams

What a helpful hen Titian is.   We'd gone for a quick cup of tea in the summerhouse before getting on with our chores - in my case the ironing. 

I'm sure Titian knows I hate ironing, because she strolled over, settled down right in front of the summerhouse and nodded off.

Titian snoozing

 We hadn't the heart to disturb her, which got me nicely out of the ironing.   Thankyou Titian.

Punk Rock

Punk - one of our Araucanas