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

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.