27 - Plucking Madam Attitude

I have recently been made aware that the older family, the original 5 Chickens: Monsieur and Madam Poulet, Heather, Feather and Attitude are 10 years old, which in itself is quite an age for chickens. This interesting fact in itself maybe one of the reasons why they are all a little bit tetchy from time to time, with a high level of intolerance for the four youngsters. Madam Attitude is now looking half naked as she or the other chickens are pulling out her feathers. Not an attractive site and in places looks quite bald. She seems in good health but as always very distant and very much a loner. As always she keeps herself to herself and forever checking to see what's going on over her shoulder...

Madams Heather & Feather continue to groom Monsieur Poulet and carry that smug appeal of being superior in the Hen Pen hierarchy of hen power. Also they are not wanting to integrate with the youngsters but continue to peck them regardless for no apparent reason. Pitiful to see really because the youngsters are now larger than inherited five. In Chicken language I am told this is called the Pecking Order...

Monsieur and Madam Poulette are as always a handsome couple, she has a quite reserve for the cockerel. which is returned with mutual respect (with no hanky panky going on). Unlike Heather and Feather, Madam Poulette is extremely tolerant of the youngster's and enjoys their company and shares any food without pecking them. Generally a lovely old bird who will be a great grand hen one day, probably to one of the youngster's off spring...

It goes without saying that it is not in our prime interest to indulge in the taste of the older family. They are still great as layers and produce more eggs than we can eat, otherwise these birds will be too tough to eat I am sure....

The youngsters are growing very big, my favourite hen, newly named: Princess Poulette is such a sweetheart and follows me around regardless. It has been known many time for her to rub herself against my leg, much like a cat would, when I go in feed them. She easily weighs 4lb and the other three youngsters are not far outside of this weight. These three we have raised so that we can eat them-----but in all honesty, I am still not up for that just yet. As for Princess Poulet I hope to breed from her with the current cockerel (Monsieur Poulet) - that is if he is interested...

Note: If anyone knows the average age of chickens before they expire the natural world, I would love to know, please leave MSG on comments below.
Note 2: Any information about feather plucking in chickens would be appreciated, please leave MSG on comments below.

23 - Where's Madam Attitude

The next morning Louisa, Emily and myself go to Hen Pen garden to feed the chickens their daily 2 bowls of Petit Dejeuner. The chickens scramble to get to the best and tastiest morsels with the usual scrapping between the old and young chickens. It doesn't take me long before I realise that Madam Attitude is missing, we search everywhere under the clumps of grass, in the coups. Nowhere to be seen; I am getting fearful at this stage. Usually it is Madam Attitude that is first on the scene whenever food is about. They all know my voice now and respond quickly but not this time after calling for her several times. We look for holes or gaps in the fencing - the fencing is secure, we continue searching under the clumps of grass for hideaways but nothing. I am perplexed, her whereabouts is a mystery and start to think possibly a fox had taken her even though there is no obvious sign of a struggle or black feathers laying about...

Suddenly, Curry Man appears on the scene and says, "What's going on" a regular saying he used to give for the television soap Eastenders. I put two and two together and came up with DEATH. "Its you, isn't it, you killed Madam Attitude" I shout at him with pointed finger. "No", "now would I" Curry Man says calmly. "Come on" I continue, "time to put your hands up on this one, have you killed Attitude"? I am getting really angry and finding it difficult to stay calm. "No Darling" he says and turns and walks away, adding "I have a curry to sort out for tonight". Rilled by this last comment, I run after Curry Man and slap him on the shoulder with my saucer size hand. He's laughing at me and all I could say was "How could you, how could you, how could you"....

At some point Max slipped into Hen Pen garden un-noticed, he too is searching for Madam Attitude. I can see him kneeling down on the grass to the far corner of Hen Pen garden and suddenly he shouts "Over here Carol Irene" I really wish he would not call me that name, I mutter to myself and make a note that I really must tackle him on that later. "She is over here sitting on a large amount of eggs" he shouts out eagerly. "Excellent Max" and we all trundle over to see where she had been hiding. Madam Attitude had dug out a large hollow under a large clump of grass, it would be easy to miss her unless the grass was lifted or separated, the grass covered her completely. In fact she looked quite cosy. "See I told you so, I didn't kill her" says the indignant Curry Man. "OK, OK, I apologise for jumping to the wrong conclusion" I say feeling exasperated. Max gently coaxes Madam Attitude off the nest and we are astounded at how many eggs there are. Max, starts to count them, which is easy for him as he is an Accountant (just qualified). "Looks like 9 eggs, no 13, no 17, no no sorry there are 20 eggs altogether, that's simply amazing". We are all amazed at such a large quantity of eggs in one nest. "The eggs are all different shapes and sizes" Max continues and puts two and two together and reconciling the differences, states that "All the hens have been dumping their eggs in the one basket - boom boom".... Oh dear...Oh dear Max

No knowing how long the eggs had been sitting in the nest, we destroyed them all. Have you had a similar experience? if so just click on comment below, we would lover to hear about it.

21 - Tug-of-War

Its breakfast time and I take to my 9 little lovelies 2 bowls of petite dejeuner. I'm in a bit of a hurry as I was up late and behind with my plans for an early trip to the market. Having placed the bowls on the ground I then check the coup for eggs. "Ah ha, a result" I say and "well done girls", we have 3 eggs. My plans are on today, in attempting to impress Sugar Lump by making him a special Creme Brulee supper pudding - I am happy. Having come out of the coup, I notice Madam Heather downing a very long length of ham rind "Oh no", I shout out. Realising immediately that I had dished their food up and forgotten to cut the ham rind into small pieces...

I can see that Madam Heather is struggling to down the rind in one lump, so I go over to aid her digestive passage. I manage to grab hold of the end and give it a gentle pull, coaxing the rind back up her throat. To my astonishment Madam Heather, then gives a more superior tug and swallows a bit more. "This cannot be right" I say to Heather. "Let it go and I will chop it up into small pieces - that way we can avoid you choking to death". A gurgling comes from the back of her throat and I am worried that this is her demise. My dear sweet Madam Heather, who is instantly forgiven for pecking at the youngsters, is going to die all because I overlooked the obvious. "What will Sugar Lump think of me". I cannot give up, I am still holding the rind as we work a Tug-of-war. The length of rind appears to be twice as long now, stretchy much like an elastic band. I am getting impatient and want the result of keeping my bird alive and about to give up when a piercing, screeching Monsieur Poulet is shouting in my ear. "Get of my land and leave my women along, Chicken Maid" he cock-a-doodle-doo's arrogantly. The noise has stunned both of us and we both spring back in surprise as I let go of the rind and find myself in a sitting position. The tug-of-war is over as the rind pings back to Madam Heather and to my astonishment winds itself round her beak. Monsieur Poulet continues shouting his mouth off and then notices Madam Heather unable to speak. He goes over to her and unwinds the rind, whispering sweet nothings to her at the same time. With one almighty pull, succeeds in retrieving the rind in one piece and to my astonishment gobbles the rind up at speed. Near speechless I say "I hope you choke on it, that was a real mean thing to do" and attempt to get up and out of Hen Pen garden. As I stand, the 3 eggs collected had smashed in my dungarees pocket and now dripping disgustingly down my leg into my wellington boots, I was in hell once again... Creme Brulee is put on hold and so is my trip to market...

14 - Increasing the Girls

I am now at the stage where I am feeling a little more comfortable with the residence of Hen Pen and don't fear so much that they will peck me to death. Picking the chickens up is still something that I cannot get to grips with, so for now that part of being A Chicken Maid is on hold. I don't see it as a totally necessary act, but for now I just enjoy getting to know my Feathered Friends. Madam Poulette continues to be broody but comes off the nest each day for about 15 mins, during this time I endeavour to collect any eggs she may have laid and don't worry myself silly about picking her up anymore..

Today is Market day and its going to be a big one I am told, I am keen to get there early to see what's going on in Chicken Corner. Feeling a little more confidant this time, as I know more or less what to expect but again it is very hot, so I take with me my face mask and drinking water to avoid gagging and retching. I have arranged to meet up with "The Experts" in the hope that they will teach me the basics in identity. Again it is very popular with the Brits and the French with people buying all sorts, Guinea Fowl, Turkey's, Chicken's etc. Much of the poultry looks really ugly and dirty but most of all very smelly - not my favourite place to be and already I am starting to gag, so I walk away. {B} shouts to me "There's some nice 8 week old fattener's here Carol", "really" I say. "you don't want anymore layers" he adds, "as you will have too many eggs to cope with". I agree with {B} and not sure why I am agreeing anything but these small chickens really do look cute. I have been told that all the chickens are ex battery, instantly I want to rescue them all but I settle for four eight week old chicks; two white and two tan and been assured that they are all hens and not cockerels. The stall holder puts the hens in a good size box by my insistence, don't want my birds couped up unnecessarily in a small box. She ties a piece of string round the box and hands the box to me. As I pick up the box the first thing to happen is that the chicks all slide down to one end as the box tilted. Instantly the chicks are alarmed and start to chirrup like mad. "No problem", I say to the stall holder smiling, who was watching me carefully. My pride being dented due to my mis management of the situation and instantly realising that the smaller box would have been more ideal for transporting my new born's. I tilt the box up hoping for a better balance within the contents but then, they all slide to the other end of the box. I smile and wipe the sweat from my brow, gagging and desperately wanting to run a mile but I stood my ground. {A} suggested that I just pick up the box and carry it to my car! yes I had thought of that but I know how these little lovelies can peck. They have room enough to put there heads out of the hand made air holes and then I would be in even more trouble with the obvious pecking order.

Driving home I wished I had just settled for buying vegetables but here I have four little chickens chirping away in the back of the car, that I have to release into their new Hen Pen home...yet another obstacle to overcome...

8 - Ouch

I could not sleep last night, knowing the inevitable. I do not want chicks yet, so removing eggs from Madam Poulette is important, I think...

Sugar Plum!! showed me exactly how to pick her up, so here I am with gardening gloves on, dungarees and wellies - ready to do this dreadfully dastardly deed. Madam takes one look at me and already she is growling at me - I snarl back "give me a break please" I beg. I spread my hands out as Malcolm showed me yesterday; already I feel inadequate, his hands are the size of dinner plates, mine small saucers. "Go for it Carol" I tell myself. At speed I enfold my hands over her back and should be wings, I turned my head away, "How can something so simple be so difficult" I mutter. She struggles and pecks at my gardening gloves "Ouch" I shout out, but she does not hurt me, safe with the gloves on. Then suddenly she is out of my grip and plops down hard on the floor. Yes, I had dropped Madam Poulette. I am devastated with myself and know immediately that I should have held her more firmly. "Oh, I am so sorry", I say to her "You did not deserve that, please forgive me" and so I go on being totally pathetic, pleading forgiveness from a chicken...

3 eggs I remove from Madam Poulette's nest and slowly make my way back to sanity, shaken to the core. "Where the hell is Sugar Plum when I need him,". Its too early for a well needed nip of Calvados, so I settle for a strong coffee and read up more from my Poultry Bible. "Not that it seems to be doing me much good so far" But I must pursue the cause...

7 - How to Handle a Chicken

Image - Man and Toy

"Bonjour Monsieur Poulet, Bonjour Madam Poulette, how are we all today then" my Husband-sugar plum says, as we both approach Hen Pen. Apart from a bit of flapping of wings, he gets little other in response "How are we coming along with the eggs, how many eggs today girls?" he chatters on, as if he has known them all his life...

After a little coaxing Sugar Plum has succumbed to my wishes and is about to show me how to handle a chicken. First we go into Coup 2 and the black hen is as always in the far corner in solitary confinement of her own choice. Malcolm shoo's her out and as always she squawks like mad and makes a dash for it. One look at his size 13 shoes and she is not for an argument with this guy - and I don't blame her!! "Hmm, no eggs in here". We then go into Coup 1, its the smaller of the two coups and where the chickens sleep at night. Madam Poulette is once again sitting cosily in the nest. "Right then, this is how you handle a chicken" Madam Poulette has an eye on him and I wonder how she is going to react. He spreads his hands out and then covers her back and wings and then slowly lifts her out of the nest. He then tucks her under his arm and strokes her tendily. Sugar Plum, then encourages me to stroke her, which I do and and make the comment on how soft she is. "She's lovely" he says "a really nice bird, you won't have any problem with her"...

Madam Poulette had been sitting on four eggs. -I sigh "A result at last". On close examination of the eggs, I notice that all the eggs are different sizes and shapes. This time we do not eat them, as we cannot be sure on how long they have been there...

"Tractor time" Malcolm says. "No, No" I say. I am still concerned that I have not handled the chicken myself yet" I argue. "You will be fine" he says , "have a go tomorrow and see how you get on, its really very easy". "But Sugar Plum, you will not be here for the next 4 days" I say, feeling exasperated - he has to go back to work in England. He is walking toward his new toy as he is talking to me and I know that its all a bit hopeless persuing the cause any longer. "Think what your daughters will say, when they arrive if they know you are afraid to pick up a chicken"...He has a point, I have to get a grip on this silly situation and be strong, can't have my daughters laughing at me, now can I...

5 - Hands on

Image - Madam Poulette

"Malcolm, I really do have an urgent need for you to show me how to handle chickens". "How do I pick them up without hurting them"? At this point Malcolm is 100% absorbed with his new Tonka Toy purchase - A Compact Tractor! This fabulous toy will do everything required for running our land mass - except of course, showing me how to pick up chickens. "Take a look at this bit of kit", "its built like a brick shit house" he says smiling. I have more urgent things on my mind. He continues, "Great bucket for transporting the logs and look at that engine" he says enthusiastically. "Mmmm terrific purchase" I say, trying to sound convincing. I conclude at this point that he has his Engineering hat on and there will be little point in attempting to fight the cause any further...I trundle back to the house, grab the all important Poultry Bible and look through the index, on how to handle chickens - Yes you guessed it, nothing. However, from the book I do indeed establish that Madam Poulet is possibly brooding...

Ah Ha, got an answer at last and one all important suggestion is that, if you don't want chicks, then it is best to take the eggs away as soon as possible. "Oh Yes Great - state the obvious" ,"HOW", I shout out angrily. At this point Malcolm comes back into the house. "Right" he says cheerily, "the tractor is all set up for you to take it for a ride, its really great fun, come and have a go"...Book in right hand - what do I do next?

4. Miss Attitude

Image - Madam Attitude

"So you are in here again" I say to the little black hen. She appears to be a bit of a loner, preferring to sit quietly in the furthest corner of coup 2 on her own. Can't see too much of what's going on in here as its quite dark, I scan the ground for eggs. "No eggs again today ". I go up to her and talk gently, once again trying to gain trust. She is not for moving, so I coax her gently with my foot, in the hope that she will not bite my leg off - she squawks like mad at me and runs out of the coup. She continues to squawk as she runs several times round Hen Pen garden. "What a load of fuss about nothing" I muse and decide she definitely has attitude. I look down to where she had been squatting, definately no eggs...

I contact a couple we know quite well Amanda and Bernie who will be moving here permanently in a few days to ask them just one question. I want to asked a million questions but I know they are packing and time is valuable to them just now. They have full hands on knowledge on Poultry generally, as they have kept all sorts over the years. Amanda answers the phone. "The hens are not laying eggs", "do you think there is a problem"? Amanda goes into depth many possible reasons why they may not be laying. Her first question is "What are you feeding them"? "Corn" I reply. "They need vitamins, shells, grits", "give them any left over food you may have, they are scavengers and will eat anything". I want to kick myself for not realising the obvious...."Thanks Amanda you are a gem"...

I rush full speed to the fridge and prepare a tasty overdue cuisine for my lovely half starved feathered friends. "Getting there" I say to myself with a new found confidence