My mornings begin much the same as other people living on the land. As I rise with the sun my first thoughts of the day are for the livestock. The flop/klump sound of gumboots on dew covered grass is overridden by the already active animals. It seems that whatever time I greet the new day they have already completed these pleasantries with much more conviction.
When I open the door to the chicken coop they behave like boys. The four of them dart around the entrance fluffing their feathers and chesting into each other. We didn’t plan on raising four roosters and remain hopeful that we have an egg production team rather than an army of alarm clocks. The chickens are joined by two picture book white ducks. Dreams of heavy-yolked poached duck egg breakfasts went with the curling of their tail feathers. So the egg laying responsibilities lay solely with the chickens.
The chatty brood of six follow me around the yard as I check the rain gauge, put seed on the wild bird feeder and finally hand feed them layer pellets. I’ve been told that it is hard to pick the difference between roosters and hens right up until the first “cock-a-doodle-bloody-do.” Maybe there is something in the layer pellets that will turn them in the desired direction.
We get quite a few native parrots on the feeder. Galahs, rosellas and lorikeets frequent the backyard to squabble over the easy pickings. Our birds seem to get along with the locals and often clean up around the base of the feeder. Watching the chickens mixing with the parrots, especially the rambunctious galahs, concerns me a little. Will their wild ways influence my impressionable chicks? I guess there comes a time when we have to let them leave the nest and find their own way.
The magpies are less liked and in fact cause sheer panic and head-bobbing terror in the two drakes. They also go on high alert when hawks cruise overhead. The fine line between serenity and severe stress is crossed continuously throughout the day but the nervous nature of the ducks warns the chickens of potential dangers too. Size alone landed the ducks in a de-facto parental role from day one. I wonder if having two male role models can influence the gender of the four chickens.
Aside from having two guard drakes the chickens reside in a maximum security complex that I feel confident not even SAS trained foxes could infiltrate. I was given numerous warnings about the ruthfulness and cunning of the fox by anyone and everyone who heard I was building a chicken coop. With these warnings in mind, I designed a structure that resembles a military compound. What isn’t solid timber is reinforced with far too many nails, the double strength chicken wire dug one foot down and three feet out from every wall. I might still add sensor lights and CCTV.
There are some signs of feminine tendencies such as their habit of always getting around in a group. Then there is their attraction to any shiny objects they find taking a particular liking to my wedding ring. There is also the incessant chatter that appears to have little relevance to what they are doing at the time. But with the chickens safe from predators and assimilating well with the native bird life we can only wait and see if we are greeted one morning with a tasty breakfast option or “cock-a doodle-bloody-do.”
