Saturday, 14 November 2009

Mrs Hen, day two

If this is a normal chicken, I might just keep buying local free range eggs from the chap at the shoe shop off Main Street.

Mrs Hen is doing nothing to endear herself to either of us, regardless of how much time I spend quietly crouched down shaking a pot of corn, she seems incapable of getting it into her pea-sized brain that I am on her side (and I have been doing this for six days now, not just yesterday in the garden). Management is deeply unimpressed with free-range poultry poo . . .

I have decided not to borrow the rabbit hutch from our neighbour. We have no way of getting the hen into it, and unlatched it will be no safer from predators than her chosen roosts. She doesn't seem prepared to climb into/under a large crate we've put in the shrubbery in an attempt to give her somewhere out of the rain (and lined it with fresh barley straw, not perfect chicken bedding but better than nothing). Despite the most horrendous storm last night, she is determined to stay in the shrub bed next to the driveway. I'll continue to put food out for her as long as she is around but it has to be admitted that my first foray into poultry-keeping has not been an unqualified success.


  1. I have a few friends who keep chickens and their hens are not much friendlier than Mrs Hen. I think it's in their nature to be cautious and flighty and at a friends yesterday the hens pecked the food from her husbands hand and ran away again. Then came back and ran away again, over and over. So don't take it personally!

  2. I think I'm beginning to understand the reasons for saying someone is henpecked, or someone rules the roost.


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