Polar Opposites

Meet Maddie, our nasty hen. You haven’t heard about her or even seen her since she is not personable at all and has never been featured in my stories. She rarely leaves the coop, choosing instead to stay indoors and rule fiercely over the two old coop-bound Tweedles during the day. She endlessly forces those old girls off the roosts, prevents them from accessing food and water and scares away any other hens who come in to lay.


Maddie, short for Madras, has the distinctive Chantecler cushion comb but the dark plumage of her Pa, Skana. But beware – she is the ultimate Mean Girl.

On those rare occasions when she does venture outdoors, other hens attack her or chase her away. She has a mean streak and is the lowest in the pecking order of our adult birds, besides the Tweedles. No one will roost anywhere near her at night as she will use the cover of darkness to lash out with a surprise peck to the comb. She has no allies and seems to begrudge her keepers for all her woes.

On the up-side, Maddie loves to sunbathe, spreading herself out on the porch in a warming beam or luxuriating in a sun-drenched dust bath. Her pleasure in these moments is so obvious. Continue reading “Polar Opposites”

Happily Ever After

Last summer, Zorro brought us two adorable chicks, Flipper and Pilot.

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Pilot and Flipper, around two months old

Perhaps you even recall an earlier post featuring Flipper and ‘her’ near-miss with a hawk. It turns out that both of these young chicks were male and both started to crow around five months old. With equal surprise and disappointment, FM and I had to accept that we now had two young roos strutting around the Queendom. Stryper, our alpha roo, was displeased with these new additions and demonstrated it with cacaphonic crowing all day, every day. He was never aggressive with his young sons but endlessly sang about it.

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Stryper is a gentle, handsome fellow whose only defense is to crow. He had no time or patience for these young sons.

There are very few choices when it comes to unwanted roosters. Until fairly recently, a Hobby Farm Network facebook page allowed folks to advertise their unwanted livestock online, allowing other farmers to purchase or take animals off your hands. Continue reading “Happily Ever After”

Flipper:1 Hawk:0

When you catch the ear-piercing screech of a mama hen and the panicked flaps of her chicks, you stop whatever it is you are doing and go into rescue mode. With our free-ranging flock, we have witnessed our share of tragedy due to raptors but we have also been on-hand to tend to and mend the near-misses.

We have eight young chicks wandering around the Queendom these days. Two are lucky enough to have been hatched out by Zorro, an experienced mama hen who takes her mothering role very seriously. This is her third brood and many of our other girls were raised under her wing. Flipper and Pilot are just four weeks old but already gaining confidence and leaving Zorro’s side for short stints.


Flipper in the front, Pilot in the back.

While FM and I were both in the outdoor coop yesterday, there was the above-mentioned screech from Zorro – a long, grating, fear-filled cry – and then the sound of wild flapping. In the time it took to turn our heads towards the noise, a hawk was already gaining altitude and flying away across the property. FM had seen the hawk for just an instant and was fairly certain that it didn’t have anything in its talons. We stepped out to see the damage and instantly saw that one of Zorro’s chicks was missing. Pilot had scooted under a salmonberry bush and had quickly reunited with Zorro but Flipper was nowhere to be seen.

We both started searching for a tell-tale cluster of downy feathers out on the drive. Then our eyes went up to the trees, searching for a feasting hawk who would be casting aside its prey’s feathers. We know that a hawk will land on a nearby branch to eat newly-caught prey before it manages to wiggle free. We wandered to the back of the field, looking for any signs of movement in the thick forest beyond our fence line. Nothing.

Even if we find her, we won’t be able to save her.

Continue reading “Flipper:1 Hawk:0”

Off To Greener Pastures

In a small, backyard flock, there is only room for one rooster. We learned this lesson before with Pingu and Skana. As the old adage proclaims, there can only be one cock on the block. If there are not enough hens to go around, there will be a cock fight.

So, once again, with great sadness, we watched poor two-month old Jockey get kicked out of the nest and directly into the fray as secondary rooster.

Young Jockey learned quickly how to be the lowest in the pecking order.

Young Jockey learned quickly how to be the lowest in the pecking order.

In that role, he was chased, pecked, chased some more, kept away from food caches, forbidden from entering the coop and forced into solitary confinement. Although he could out-crow Skana with his strong set of lungs, he had to do so from far afield. He made himself comfortable each night on the woodpile, knowing that he was not welcome in the coop. Often his fair sister, Ash, would join him on the woodpile since she, too, was having difficulty integrating with the flock.

Jockey in front and Ash behind. At three months old, his crazy coloured plumage was just beginning to show.

Each night, as FM and I headed to bed, our final chicken chore would be to carry these two straggly teenagers into the outdoor coop area so that they would be safe from predators through the night. This was the routine for almost three months.

Throughout this time, Jockey remained the kindest and most gentle roo we have ever had. He flocked with me whenever I was home, chattered to me about his day and complained softly about his exclusion. He eagerly awaited the secret food stashes I hid for him alone.

Jockey ended up being quite a stunning looker. He grew this awesome 80s heavy Metal long hair with a soon-to-be-stunning greenish tail.

Jockey ended up being quite a stunning looker. He grew awesome blonde hackles which remind me of a 80s Heavy Metal frontman’s greasy long blonde hair. He is only 4 months old here and still will develop stunning greenish sickle tail feathers.

As soon as the automatic door opened each morning, he would be the first out of the coop, trying to avoid the inevitable bullying that would come. Each night, he willingly stepped onto our arms and balanced there as we carried him sleepily off his woodpile bed and onto his less-preferred coop roost.

Jockey is a big guy but he is as gentle as can be. He would easily step onto FM's arm whenever he was invited up.

Jockey is a big guy but he is as gentle as can be. He would easily step onto FM’s arm whenever he was invited up.

As if on schedule, at five months old, Jockey became interested in jumping Skana’s harem. In retaliation, Skana’s aggression increased exponentially. Things were going downhill quickly. FM and I discussed all the possibilities.

  1. We could slaughter Jockey. He is a big guy and would provide a couple of tasty meals. BUT he has such a lovely disposition and we have become so attached to him as a sidekick that we searched for a better option.
  2. We could slaughter Skana. He has been more aggressive with us, drawing blood on occasion. BUT the hens eagerly flock with him and he performs his protective roostering duties very well.
  3. We could obtain a whole bunch more hens so that both boys would have their own hens. BUT we don’t have either enough coop space or the time necessary to raise more chickens.
  4. We could give Jockey away. BUT everyone knows that a free rooster is simply going into someone else’s stew pot. No one wants more roosters.

There is no easy way out of this. Or is there?

Last week, FM directed my attention to a listing on our local Hobby Farm Network. Someone was looking for a rooster to protect her 50+ laying hens from a marauding hawk. Not only was this person living quite nearby, she was already a friend of mine from Book Club! A hawk had taken up residence above her hen house and was occasionally feasting on her hens. She decided to see if a rooster could provide some protection to her flock. But the rooster needed to be friendly since her young children love to hang out with the chickens.

This was exactly the job description that Jockey needed. All it took was a single phone call. Knowing that our chickens are healthy, happy and used to being held, she agreed to take Jockey. Two days later, I boxed him up in the car and drove him over to his new home. After being sequestered in a cat crate, watching his harem of hens and letting them watch him, he was slipped into his new coop in the dark of Halloween night. When he awoke, I’m sure that he thought he had died and gone straight to Chicken Heaven!

“Whoa! 72 virgins? All for me? Cock-a-doodle-doo!”


The Up-And-Comers

At barely six months old, Sprout had already decided that motherhood was her calling.

At barely six months old, Sprout decided that motherhood was her calling.

Sprout is a full-on broody hen. No sooner had she begun to lay at five months when she decided to become a mum.  Of course, there is nothing more lovely than a hen raising her own chicks so we encouraged her and gave her three eggs – one of her own, one of Trixie’s and one of the Tweedle’s.

On April 15, two of those three hatched and we finally got to meet Jockey and Ash.

Here, Jockey and Ash are about three months old.

Here, Jockey and Ash are about three months old.

Right on schedule, at two months old, Jockey broke our hearts and began to crow. As we tried unsuccessfully to keep our affection for this unwanted young rooster at bay, we admire his Sprout-like plumage, listen to his infrequent crows and watch as he is excluded from the flock most of the time. He is lovely with his green/purple iridescent feathering and his gentle demeanor. He seeks us out as a refuge when being chased by Skana, enjoys a belly scritch and makes a pleasant coo as he laments about his troubles.

Jockey is a negative image of his mom's colouring

Jockey got his name from sitting up on Sprout’s shoulders when he was a chick. He is a negative image of his mum’s colouring.

Jockey sports the 'librarian bun' tail just like Skana did but J's is full of iridescent green and purple. It will be spectacular.

So far, Jockey sports the ‘librarian bun’ tail just like Skana did but J’s is full of iridescent green and purple. It will be spectacular.

Ash is a beauty. She has her father’s dark eyes and his silver-grey colouring. Some of her chest feathers are rimmed with rusty gold, just like Trixie. She also seeks us out as a safe refuge and doesn’t mind being held. She is trying hard to find her place in the flock but pretty close to the bottom of the pecking order. She will be laying within the next six weeks!

Ash looks a lot like an oversized Robin with her golden chest feathers.

Ash looks a lot like an over-sized Robin with her golden chest feathers.

Many of her silver feathers are rimmed with dark grey and have a rusty coloured shaft. She is a beauty!

Many of her silver feathers are rimmed with dark grey and have a rusty coloured shaft. She is gorgeous!

Although Sprout was a patient and attentive mum, keeping these two under her wing for more than six weeks, she is broody again and sitting on another clutch of eggs. Both Jockey and Ash often sit near her, cooing at her and vying for her attention but she has moved on and is only concerned with the next brood. It seems these two were kicked out of the nest too early and are unable to hold their own in the coop. At this point, they sleep outdoors on the woodpile and each night FM and I have to carry them into the outdoor coop for safety. It’s tough love in the chicken world.

Chicken Mathematics

6 +7 -2 +1 -1 -2 = 9 chickens. This math question contains 5 chicken stories.

Quite a lot has happened here in the Queendom since losing Chip in August. Too much for a lazy blogger. Upon losing Chip, we had 6 chickens (2 roosters and 4 laying hens). This is what has happened since then:

1) +7  We were given seven new chicks from Gavin at Holiday Farm, the same breeder who had supplied our first brood of Welsumers and Chanteclers. His pure-bred heritage flocks had intermingled and he no longer had pure breeds so he gave us seven “Heinz 57” chicks who were somewhere between 3 to 5 weeks old.

There are 7  baby chicks in this pile of feathers. They are about 4 weeks old and a mish-mash of inter-breeds.  Heaven!

There are 7 baby chicks in this pile of feathers. They are approximately 4 weeks old and a mish-mash of inter-breeds. Heaven!

These new chicks spent about a month separated from our flock before we tried integrating them. They had the fenced area around the garden shed where they scratched and pecked and could see the other six birds free-ranging nearby.

2) -2 FM came home from work one afternoon to find feathers scattered near the shed. Two of the new chicks were missing – Shadow and Sprout – but only the black and white speckled feathers of Shadow were apparent. Upon closer inspection in the fading light of the day, we found the remains of little Shadow’s body. We can only guess that the Red Shinned Hawk who occasionally passes through had flown into the garden shed and taken Shadow out. Their area was completely covered in netting, except for the top half of the partially opened shed door. It would have been some fancy flying for that hawk to get into the shed and then even more spectacular for it to get out with a chick in its talons.

All that was left of Shadow was this nauseating pile of feathers. The olny upside is that the hawk wasted nothing.

All that was left of Shadow was this nauseating pile of feathers. The only upside is that the hawk wasted nothing.

But where was little Sprout? She wasn’t in the shed with the others but there was no sign of her body or her white feathers anywhere. In complete darkness that evening, I called out and searched for her with a flashlight. I looked in all the possible hiding places around the house, shop and shed. The books all say that a missing chicken has simply been taken by a flying predator. We went to bed that night with heavy hearts, knowing that we had lost 2 chicks in one fell swoop.

3) +1 The next morning, as we were preparing to leave for work, we opened the garden shed door and carefully placed netting over the entire door to prevent further hawk snacking. Just then, little Sprout emerged across the yard from under the house porch. She had spent the night alone, in -5 ºC temperatures, under the porch. I had searched that space the night before but had not seen her. It is still a mystery to us about how she got out of the fenced shed area. Had she had been picked up by the hawk at the same time as Shadow? How had she escaped unscathed? How had the hawk done it? She had no cuts or punctures and was very happy to be back in her flock. Sprout is a lucky girl indeed.

Here are the six survivors, liled together in their garden shed home. Sprout, the lucky one, is the white chick on the far right.

Here are the six survivors, piled together in their garden shed home. Sprout, the lucky one, is the white chick on the far right.

4) -1 Last summer, we had trouble deciding which rooster would be top cock so we kept two of our last brood – Skana and Pingu. But, as those two boys became teenagers, their sex-drive went into over-drive, much to the chagrin of our hens. After observing the violence that too many roosters brings, we dispatched poor Pingu and the entire flock breathed a sigh of relief.

5) -2 As soon as our newest chick brood reached two months old, a funny sound came out of the garden shed early one morning. It sounded like air being slowly released from a pinched balloon. Little Radar and Big Cleo had begun crowing in response to Skana. It was a heart-breaking day for us since we had just got rid of Pingu. FM and I knew that there was no place for any more roosters in our flock. We decided to fatten them up and allow them to reach sexual maturity before they too would become our next chicken dinners. It was hard to keep our affection for them at bay over those months. Especially with Radar since he had such a gregarious chicken-ality with a Little-Big-Man swagger. At the ripe age of four months old, Cleo and Radar were lovingly killed.

Cleo - originally named Cleopatra, for her extensive eye liner, turned out to be a Roo, much to everyone's dismay.

Cleo – originally named Cleopatra, for her extensive use of eye liner – turned out to be a Roo, much to everyone’s dismay (especially his).

Radar was full of personality and had an awesome, long pointy tail that gave him his name. Bold and confident, he took charge of the flock from day one.

Radar was full of personality and had an awesome, long pointy tail that gave him his name. Bold and confident, he took charge of the flock from day one.

It feels like so many chickens have come and gone here at the Queendom. So far, during our 20 months of chicken keeping, twenty chickens have been part of our flock. Seven of those 20 have been roosters and 13 have been hens. Six roosters have been slaughtered, 3 hens have died of illness and 2 were killed by predators. I simply hope that our flock will hold fast at 9 for a good long time.