Lockdown - A Furry Fiend

Undoubtedly, a lot has happened in Chicken Corner this past month, and similarly to the current events beyond this empire’s borders, there have been some dramatic ups and downs. To mention only a few gritty stories, seven chicks hatched on Easter Sunday and we’ve got broody hens coming out of our ears.. and I certainly haven’t the faintest as to where some are actually nesting!

In more pressing news, I have considered - taking precautionary measures before disaster strikes - to implement a ‘lockdown’ due to a far more visible (yet classically cunning) threat, the sly fox. During Sally’s and my regular evening stroll, we spotted the orange, white tipped fiend crossing the field. It was a big’en!

In that instance I thought “it is time..” (no not an appropriate time for Lion King quotes!) No, I thought, its time to get those eye-sore-inducing construction panels back up on the last chicken run, otherwise, in one attack, the fox will have cleared out over 80% of our feathery population. Agreed, I didn’t like the statistics either, so, a couple of days later I started de-nettling. “What?! De-nettling?! In a time of crisis, your ‘go-to’ is to start digging?” – quote avid, yet mortified reader.

Well, yes .. yes of course. In the Second World War, “Dig For Britain” was commonly bill boarded all over the place and like any life-threatening situation, we take our duties very seriously. So after an hour’s uprooting on one’s own, GJH joined; he dug and I pulled the roots out.

Fun fact (note to self – conventionally, this will not be in any way ‘fun’ and is not ‘factual’ either, but by the by, here I go anyway..) Nettles are very clever and simply love to grow along the boundaries of wired enclosures (maybe they’ve got a thing of metal), or in any inaccessible location where we allow them to grow.

Actually that is not entirely true, because Monty’s field has loads of nettles right in the middle of it, (excuse my deliberate intervention but, *insert re-wording, ‘nettles grow where we are too lazy to dig them up’ (* Avid reader gasps, even more mortified).

In essence, the lockdown was the well-needed kick up the backside required in order for me to actually remove the nettles and improve Chicken Corner’s aesthetic facade. Look how vain lockdowns make us! Yet, to keep encouraging nature, I didn’t uproot the non-stinging nettles because bees and butterflies love them. We’re not complete barbarians you know!

Implementation of the full parameter structure continues, as the gate is yet to be correctly hinged. All the chickens are still wandering the orchard freely.. (*reader gasps again). I guess you could say I’m ‘playing it by ear’ but right now my ears are blocked with broody hens!

Stay Safe chicks! x

Hierarchical Anarchy

In these ‘difficult and uncertain times’, we are all in need of a little light-heartedness to guide us along this rocky, unstable path. So, with oodles of unjustified confidence and strictly unclassified “key worker” status, your favourite director and manager of Chicken Corner is here to provide you with a little glowing candle to grip onto through our seemly weed-infested tunnel of darkness which is, COVID-19.

To be truthful, nothing much has changed in Chicken Corner and its safe to say the psychology and behaviour of these significant orchard members has not been affected (AT ALL). To start with, implementation of the 2-metre social distancing rule hasn’t had much success, and since lockdown was announced last Tuesday, these outrageous birds are still leaving their homes everyday and ALL day! I mean of course I would understand if they did so for the recommended 15 minutes (obviously maintaining safe distancing unless with members of their own chicken household) but the scenes I have witnessed take the biscuit! I’ve seen them out for hours, and they even venture into the cattle barns. Honestly, the potential for cross-contamination and the extortionate levels of integration at this ‘strange period’ is unfathomable.

And oh.. oh no I shouldn’t divulge, but I will anyway. For those of you with a weak disposition look away now because general hygiene has gone out of the window for these unbelievable creatures... for they all drink from the same water troughs! It pains me to see it.. for as a harsh contrast, meanwhile in the farmhouse, I can’t even have a refill in my own mug without the hamster-printed ceramic being shepherded straight into the dishwasher for deep cleansing..

Let’s move on from this life-absorbing subject, as it thankfully hasn’t dragged my feathered friends in yet. Right now Chicken Corner is experiencing hierarchical anarchy. Caused by one little opportunist, Giles, the arrogant Pekin cockerel. He has found a literal ‘loop whole’ in the system in the form of jumping over the fence, to taste the sweetness of freedom and metallic favour of Brahma blood. He's recently taken to bullying the big Brahma cockerel who is quadruple his size. “Why not pick on something his own size!?”..I hear your curious minds inquire. (Well, Big Brahma is the only other cockerel on the farm) but thank you, that’s a very poignant question and the answer is rather ironic. Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start [Copyright: The Sound Of Music].

Previously, Big Brahma had picked on a similarly sized bird, Caesar (the late Buff Orpington cockerel). He became blind in his right eye after a savage meet-up, thus reducing his sight considerably. Now living with permanent anxiety, not knowing where the next attack may come from (as a hint, I’d say look down), the irony of this large bird being terrorise by Giles really does come full circle. It would seem that Giles has taken position at the top of the hierarchy.

But the race is still on, as Gwen, the Jurassic Guinea Fowl has taken exception to Giles’ freedom and his unforgivable actions towards Big Brahma. (N.B. Quickly, yes we do now have a guinea fowl named Gwen). The sex of this usual-looking creature has never been confirmed and her recent aggression towards said Pekin has made me question whether we should re-christen her ‘Glen’. However, for the purposes of my anti-patriarchal tale, Gwen will remain female.

A striking head with a fierce helmet projecting a-top, red wattles contrasting a white and blue face, and feathers like iron spikes, she lowers her weapon ready for battle. With wings spread wide and up to enhance her size, she eyes her target: Giles (obviously). What follows are a series of high-speed chases around the farm, until the Pekin is left head first, cowering in a crevice. She represents female defiance and resistance to the male-dominated world she once found herself born into, and like her Amazonian ancestors, she will proudly sit in her throne overseeing a vast Chicken Corner empire.

Meanwhile, to save Giles from himself (unsurprisingly, he doesn’t know what’s best for him) GJH Rainey assisted me in the blocking of Giles’ ‘loop whole’, adding another panel to his enclosure. This was a marvellous opportunity to start weaving my willow hedge.. but until tomorrow ;)

Stay safe, chicks x

A Nostalgic Summer

Hello, hello and welcome back!

News that will no doubt reduce all Chicken Corner fans to tears (solemn drum roll).. this coming Autumn, the brood will decrease from my famous “50 chickens” to a solid 22. My personal ownership will consist of the last of the nobility (3 retired Sussex hens and 6 Buff Orpingtons). In conversations, and a touch of forceful delegation, Olivia will have 4 Arauncanas and her 2 call ducks, meanwhile Izzi will keep her quartets of Brahmas and Mottled pekins. This ensures everyone is kept happy without a giant burden on any particular individual.

Having seen numbers sore to triple figures over the Summer, the orchard is looking a bit worse for wear. Feathers sodden with fresh morning dew scatter in a rather rough and tumble way – both reminiscent of previous fox attacks and a clear sign of the grand season of moulting to come.

Oh please! Lets not dwell on the present! I’d much prefer to lead you on a magical ride of nostalgia, back through the hot, humid and fruitful days of this year’s Summer months! (Side note – it wasn’t necessarily my intention to leave you stranded without a Chicken Corner paddle this Summer (Translation: Apologies I didn’t update you on the drama as it unfolded).. but trust me, all the major editorials do it ;) well, I say all, I only know ONE. Don’t let me get side-tracked though, it’s an incredibly bad habit of mine!

FOCUS.. ok so, what was it I last left you on? *reads own blog to find out

.. gosh how clever!? A literary comparison, I really out-do myself sometimes.

*reflects on Summer’s events

In a basic round-up, using reliable sources such as flash-backs - for some reason as dramatic as flashing lightning and anticlimactic as hen clucks - I just see lots and lots of chicks. Using my mystical ball, I recall these many chicks transforming into many many larger pullets and cockerels. A few months down the line, circa August: the cockerels were shipped off in batches by a “mate” and the pullets were sold within a few days after placing an ad in the local newspaper.. the conventional follow up to this would be - “check it out for next time”, but inevitably there won’t be a next time. As Director and Manager, I have a duty of care to my readers and I will not disrespect this with white lies.

Back to the saga of chicken breeding however, and I’m afraid its not all joy as this Summer no doubt taught me. I was shocked to hear the news of Gigi, my little partridge pekin. She had been savagely mauled by a fox in the night. She was a dedicated mother to 5 chicks at the time, only 2 of which were fortunate enough to survive. They always say you remember how a person or situation makes you feel. I remember questioning whether I could ever love a chicken the same.. truly harrowing stuff!

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, (not for poor Gigi obviously, gosh how insensitive of me!) but in terms of my own emotional recovery, at least I could hold onto the knowledge that my other favourite chicken, Caesar, was still scratching around. Within a few days of my return to the farm however, one afternoon it came to feeding time and Caesar didn’t show. Stinking with denial, I searched all over the farm, hoping I would find him, alas without success. The stages of grief settled in while I came to terms with the fact Caesar was indeed only mortal and had joined his imperial ancestors amongst the gods..

Rest in Peace Caesar and Gigi.

Bye chicks x

Written: 3rd October 2019