Moving On Up

The two newest recruits, Flo and Winnie, have been with us for a couple of months now. They're still some way off laying, but Flo has already found her big girl voice and Winnie's is on its way. It's a curious time for a chicken when they switch from the babyish 'meep meep' to the adult 'bok-ARK'. They often look rather startled themselves when a 'meep' ends in a 'ARK', and the transition lasts a couple of weeks. So I suppose you could say that the two newbies have now hit adolesence. And that means one thing: moving out of the nursery.

The baby pekins have resided in the garage in makeshift accomodation up until this point. They have made firm friends with the serama, and often pop over for dinner. But ultimately they need to integrate with the big girls. I have locked them in to the Palace for short periods before now, and although they get chased a bit and the odd bum tail feather pulled, no serious harm has been done. So today I have bitten the bullet. Flo and Winnie are moving up in to the Palace.

So far, no major confrontation has taken place. The newbies have kept one step ahead of the established flock members, and there has been no coordinated effort to mash them in to the aubiose. But as with all things chicken, I can't exhale just yet. The next few days will be fraught for both human and chickens alike. Hopefully, though, at the end I will be left with a cohesive pekin flock (The serama will stay in their hutch home for the forseeable future due to the pekins' desire to turn them in to scatter cushions given half a chance).

How about a few pics?

Mabel, mid moult. She is not impressed.

Maude, post moult, and looking beautiful.

Hilda, looking quite nared at the new introductions, and in a pecky mood.

Nearly grown up Winnie and Flo. Flo is getting darker as she matures.

The greeting party. They mostly come in peace.

Maeve showing off her bosoms like a Boss.

You looking at me?

Vera appears to be going broody again. Excuse me while I bang my head against a wall.

Betsy pops up to say hello.

Now I just have to wait for sun down to see if the new girls are brave enough to try sleeping with the enemy.

Well, Betsy Was Lonely, So......

It was my duty, really, to get her a pal. This little lady is a mottled, straight feathered Serama. And her new name is Smudge. On first sight, the ever tolerant husband thought she resembled a dairy cow, so we did toy with the idea of calling her Daisy, or Ermintrude. But ultimately, to me, she looks like a Smudge. So Smudge it is. She's approximately four months old, probably rubbish type, but a sweet little thing. Well, I thought so. Betsy took one look at the newcomer and leapt on her back in a frenzy of talons and feather pulling. Thankfully, Smudge retaliated in kind. After a brief skirmish, the two micro chickens circled each other warily and kept a respectful distance. I'm hoping that given time they will be firm friends.

Smudge the incredible one legged chicken.

She is refusing to pose at the moment, but I'm hoping that she'll settle in quickly and then I can get some better pictures.

As Betsy shows, after settling in Serama are generally nosey and friendly.

The pekins look on the new arrival with an air of resignation. No doubt they will give Smudge the 'chase them 'til they're sick' initiation as soon as allowed.

Meanwhile, the serama chicks are now four weeks old. I'm no nearer to working out which flavour they are, and have a sneaking suspicion they'll keep me guessing for a while yet. Some strains mature at a slower rate than others, and I think I might have a strain that matures at about the same rate as glaciers inch their way down the mountain side. No matter, they're a joy.

A camera shy Hoppy peers out from under Vera while a more confident Sylvie gives me The Look.

Hmmm, Sylvie, are you a boy?

This week, I will mostly be juggling free range time. I might need a spreadsheet.

Spring Is In The Air

After yesterday's confirmation that Hilda has started laying, I am delighted to report that Doris has decided to join in. Considering that Doris has had a couple of bouts of weirdy eye illness over the winter, I am particularly glad that she has rallied. The bad news is, she layed her torpedo egg and then sat on it. For an hour. This could be a world record for a laying hen turning broody.

While Doris was busy in the nest box, Betsy and Vera were safely locked in the run. Last night was a bit nippy here, but I resisted cosseting the tiny serama beyond covering their cage with a thick rug. They managed to find the parakeet perch, and when I last checked on them before human bedtime their feet were toasty warm. I have decided to press ahead with gentle introductions, because I will be happier when they're snuggled up next to a pekin duvet.

The flock have taken it in turns to approach the run door and observe the interlopers. There has been much concerned chuntering, but no acts of aggression. For their part, Betsy and Vera have pretty much ignored the bigger girls. I did go dashing out when I heard the whole flock sounding an alarm call, and was amused to see the serama bouncing up and down to try and see over the six inch kickboard that surrounds the Palace's perimeter. It turned out that the terrifying threat was a plastic shopping bag which was blowing above the fence line before sinking back down.

Maeve ignored the whole commotion, preferring to lay flat on the patio in full on sun worship. She has also ignored the newbies. Her indifference is suspicious. She usually asserts herself pretty much immediately with new hens. I wonder if their size makes her think that they are babies, and therefore not worth bothering with. They have yet to bok.

No eggs yet, but the incy is dusted off. Just in case.

Sunshine, Introductions And Moving House

If I have any devoted followers, it may have been noticed that its been over a week since my last post. The reason? House stress. We very nearly sold our house, but then didn't. We very nearly bought a house, but then didn't. So. Once again, I am doing my best to ignore the whole circus unless someone brings me news. Easier said than done, to be honest. However, my ladies require my attention, which is a very Good Thing.

Introductions are going reasonably well. Celia and Purdy will now happily leave the garage under their own steam. They tend to stick close together, and are mostly found loitering on the decking. The other girls mostly ignore them, with only the occassional chase or peck. Margot is the most determined baby chaser, which just confirms to me that with the loss of Mini, Margot has taken the position of bottom hen. Her status will be short lived though, once the partridge girls join the main flock.

The sun has made a much welcomed appearance here, and despite the cold it lifts everyones spirits. Maeve is in raptures, and lays on the decking for hours sun bathing. She only moves to change which wing to spread out to catch some rays. All of the girls like the sun, but Maeve is a full on sun worshipper. Unfortunately, her favourite spot is behind the back door. I end up gently shoving her across the decking if I need to get outside.

I don't blame her for making the most of it.

Two Tribes

Now that the decision to sell the house has been made, it has forced me to speed up the integration process. I couldn't quite get my head around showing prospective buyers the super sparkly house, and then letting them peek into the garage only to be confronted by two demented bog brushes and acres of poo. So, two nights ago I bit the bullet and the silkies moved in to the Convent.

It went as well as can be expected. Mabel was pancaked in the nest box, so Maeve had free reign. She chased them and kung fu kicked them a few times. The other girls dived out of the way and generally muttered about the impetuousness of youth. The silkies have long legs compared to a pekin, so speed is their advantage. Eventually, everyone got bored and went to bed. Kiki and Margot waited until almost full dark before tentatively climbing the ramp to the sleeping quarters. After a little indecision, they slunk inside and huddled up in a nest box. I was quite smug about the whole thing.

My smugness didn't last, as at dawn I was up separating them. It wasn't that the chasing was particularly bad, but Doris had taken up a war cry which could wake the dead. Not the best way to keep the neighbours on side, Doris. Removing the silkies worked, and we all went wearily back to bed.

Yesterday, the new girls decided to spend their time hiding behind the greenhouse, making only the occasional foray to search out food and water. For the most part, the flock ignored them, only getting shirty if they approached any treats. Again, all perfectly normal and even promising. At dusk, my original ladies pootled off to bed. The silkies hung back, looking agitatedly for somewhere else to sleep. When they realised that there were no other options, they slunk into the Convent. I locked the door, feeling confident that all was well.

On checking the coop with a torch before bed, I found Kiki and Margot asleep under the sleeping area in the run. I unceremoniously grabbed them both and stuffed them into the coop, where they made the mistake of trying to bed down for the night on top of a grumpy Mabel. She gave them both a smart peck on the head, and much chastised they curled up in the other nest box. I half expected to be woken at dawn again, but helpfully Doris kept schtum.

We'll see how it goes tonight, after I remove the persistent Mabel from the equation.

The Aftermath

Well, Maeve got a pecking. I got back from the school run to find her stood on the ramp, a tiny cut on her face. The others were ignoring her and scratching about in the easibed, trying to look innocent. As soon as I opened the door, Maeve shot out of the run and high tailed it down to the greenhouse, jumping at the glass desperate to escape the little monsters. The others sauntered out, scratching and pecking at the lawn, swaggering with evil chicken pride. Maeve had been put in her place.

I loathe introductions. It's stressful, horrible to watch and can so easily turn into chicken murder. However, it pays to persevere. Maeve may have a small cut, but she might have easily done that herself in her attempts to escape. I haven't witnessed any really nasty attacks, and this seems more like an initiation than full on intent to maim. So, at school run time she's going back in.

Now the question is, will she ever forgive me?

Eeeek!

Well, I've bitten the bullet. Maeve is currently shut into the run, and Maude, Mini and Belinda are in the nest box. The other two are munching around the flower beds. After initially panicking, Maeve has settled down to scratch around the easibed in the run. I'm just waiting for the fireworks once one of the others comes down the ramp.....