Operation Hen Rescue Part Deux

Have a look at the video:



So we'd left the hens alone for a while and hovered nervously in case they spontaneously keeled over and snuffed it.

They were still not ranging around the run, and they were turning their beaks up at the pellets we had in their feeder. So, brave as I am, I poured some mash into it, and scattered some up near the door to the coop. Quick as a flash, the one outside pecked me! Turns out she was only starving and trying to get at the familiar mash, rather than the weird and unfamiliar pellets. And then we all whooped as she started pecking and eating, and the other two started to investigate what was outside.

All was going really well. And then Millie, our black and white cat, wandered over to check them out. They were very seriously not impressed. Wings were flapped, squawks and clucks became very loud, and they all evacuated into the coop. Millie seemed somewhat amused and chose to sun herself in their eye shot, whilst they scolded her very loudly from inside.

So again we left them alone for a couple of hours, and after dinner, we came out to find all three in the run instead of in the coop! Yay!

During dinner, we had all discussed names for our new friends, and, let me tell you, I have a seriously disturbed family! After much hilarity and nonsense, we picked Betty, Madame Jigglypuff and RazorBeak. Um, yes, well.

So I assigned names to birds, and we all settled down to watch them again. Connor trained the camera on them, as they were all out and about now, scratching and pecking, and we went about our business. Well, most of us did. Dylan spent a long time admiring them, and singing songs to them. I think they rather liked it; at least, they stayed out in the run, doing chicken things and didn't seem to mind.

I messed about with some spinning, and Connor and Jack helped me to sort out a stinky old fleece. Then Jack and I carded some of it. With the spinning, fleece and hens calmly scratching about in the run, it was an idyllic and almost bucolic evening.

Finally, the girls realised the sun was setting, and, with everyone looking on in astonishment, they trouped inside and went to sleep. No cajoling, no chasing, no bargaining. Just up the ramp and off to bed.

I wonder if I can magically transform my sons into hens.