The chicken ladies do not often show much common sense, and especially so when it comes to laying eggs. They have two lovely nest boxes, but they will sit on top of each other in one that is already occupied, rather than use the empty one next to it.
A few weeks back, Tiny, the darker of our two bantam ladies, took to sitting in the corner of the Chicken Palace to lay her eggs. It was a bit of a pain, because I had to reach the far corner with a hoe to collect the eggs. I felt it was a shame that the larger ladies would not let her have a turn in the nest box (although there was still an empty one she could have used) and was prepared to cut her some slack.
To my slight dismay, Teeny decided to join in. Each morning, there were two little bantam eggs in the far corner.
Then Tiny decided that she was not going to let me collect the eggs any more. She sat stubbornly in the corner, refusing to budge. Teeny had to wait her turn in the nest box.
I had not thought to keep a track of when Tiny started brooding her little clutch, or of how many eggs she was incubating, so I had only a very vague idea of when we might expect any of the eggs to hatch.
A couple of weeks ago, a tiny fluffball appeared in the Palace. Tiny was fiercely protective and would puff herself up as big as she could and launch herself furiously at me if I approached. I put food and water in with them and tried not to upset Tiny any more than was necessary.
Then one day, Minnow went absolutely crazy, running back and forth along the outside of the chicken pen, yapping and making some very odd howling noises, I hurried down to see what was the matter.
Tiny’s baby had fallen out of the Palace, in spite of the threshold I had put in, and Tiny was desperately trying to keep it safe. She squared up to MInnow through the wire, flapping her wings and, squawking and gaping. The more she squawked, the more frantic Min became and the chick scuttled about cheeping its distress.
We know there are rats about and that a tiny chick can get caught in the weldmesh until it grows too big for the centimetre holes. The only thing for it was to catch either Tiny or the chick and put them back in the Palace. Whoever was left would be eager to follow and should be more easily caught.
It was not easy. Tiny is actually quite intimidating, even to a human when she is in full protective mother mode. Trouser-clad legs are not particularly vulnerable, but picking up a tiny chick exposes your face and eyes to that sharp little beak.
When I had caught them both for the second time, we stapled some very fine plastic mesh across one of the doors of the Palace, so that we could shut the doors and keep them in, without sentencing them to weeks in the dark.
Meanwhile, Teeny took on brooding duty, which allowed Tiny to follow her baby around. Sharing the burden seemed very practical and rather touching.
No further eggs hatched for over a week, and then within a few days, Teeny had hatched three further chicks.
We now have two fierce little chicken mothers scratching about in the Palace with four babies. Tiny’s baby already has a proper little chicken tail and is almost completely feathered, while Teeny’s babies are pale golden balls of fluff.
Only time will tell whether we have baby boys or girls and what size they will grow to. I can not even remember whether I slipped a couple of the bigger ladies’ eggs in with the bantam eggs. A ver, as the locals say. We’ll see.
