Thursday, March 10, 2016

One of the brood has left (sniff, sniff)

My brood
I have been chasing chickens far too much lately.  Princess Leia - who has taken up to sleeping on top of the enclosure - discovered she could fly into next door's garden yesterday morning, at getting ready for school time.  Grr ... after the second attempt at running round in circles and getting nowhere, I enlisted the help of the youngest of my clan who helped shepherd her towards our garden fence.  Leia thought she'd try and be smart and squeeze through the fence gap, whereupon she found herself wedged between wood and wire fence and no way to move backwards or forwards.  After some undoing of wings, and untangling of feet I managed to grab hold of her and post her back over the fence.  Not content with causing mayhem for one day, I've just spent 15 minutes chasing her round the garden at night-time trying to get her to roost in the coop with her mates.  And our Scottish sheepdog cannot have inherited the 'rounding up' gene as he is about as much use as chocolate teapot when escapees are escaping ...

Ruben with his foster mum isn't he a handsome chap
Anyhoo ... our brood is getting smaller, from 5 down to 6.   The other day our gorgeous rooster Ruben found himself a new 'mob' down in the valley.  I took him to a friend of a friend, who introduced him to her 4 girls, one of whom instantly established pecking order and pecked him, hard. I'm sure he will get along just fine.

Now we just need to find a home for our other rooster Chris.  He is trying to bonk all my girls, and to be honest I couldn't stand the stress of rearing more chicks.  The hens are getting rather shirty with him too.  It's no fun being a boy in our garden!

(Even though I sounded distinctly grumpy at the start, I love my chooks wholeheartedly)

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