An Amateur’s Guide to Killing Your Rooster

Au’revoir, Devon – or in French, Off With His Head! It’s interesting (but coincidental) that I haven’t written a blog post since I killed my rooster, Devon. It’s also interesting (but coincidental) that the first time I write a blog in a while is the day my new chicks hatched (another post, another story). Devon…

Post-Apocalyptic Bantam Blunder

I may have made a post-apocalyptic blunder, but they’re really cute, so what the hell! Meet my pair of Silver Sebright Bantams. The rooster is Bibimbap and the hen is Bowwow (Belle was gracious enough let me get some more chickens, so I was gracious enough to let her name them!). My plan is to…

Lessons in Zombie Survival (if Raccoon = Zombie)

On the 3rd of November I woke up to my 1st wedding anniversary. Forgive the quick slip into epic-fantasy over my traditional post-apocalyptic references, but the morning of my wedding anniversary was somewhat similar to the Red Wedding in the Game of Thrones book, War of the Five Kings by George RR Martin (TV people…

Nature Eats Nuture

It has recently occurred to me that my nightmares of impending and horrific doom occur daily in the garden. Albeit, on a smaller scale, but terrifying and destructive for the players involved. It’s a warzone out there. Over the course of a week, three different neighbours told me they’d found the remains of a dead chick in their garden….

Turning Pallets into Eggs – Part II

It can be hard to plan for an apocalypse. No one seems to know when or what it’ll looks like – or rather, there are just too many options to choose from. However, if you stick with the broad biblical categories of Pestilence, War, Famine and Death, there is one failsafe rule: When those horsemen…

Turning Pallets into Eggs – PART I

From my reading of Stephen King’s, The Stand, I’m making the wild assumption that chickens will survive the apocalypse (they are one of the blessed species). I’m now pleased to report that I’m pretty confident my chicken coop will too. Like the cockroach, it will probably outlive humanity. It’s lucky the Mayans were wrong because…

Nature Beats Nurture

Exciting times – you treat them like ladies and they act like boys… I gave them respectable lady-like names: Devon and Delilah. They only played with other hens; they should not have even been aware of how boy-chickens behave. I restricted their reading material to pro-women pamphlets and Margaret Thatcher’s auto-biography. I swore Deo to…

Meet The Flock

Lady Leone When Lady Leone first joined my flock she was a square breasted Giant White Jersey who waddled from the weight of her high-corn, meat breeder diet. Reaching the lower roosting bar required a lot of squawking and flapping and a significant amount of fairy dust. No doubt about it – Lady Leone was…

The Very Inspiring Blogger Award

What an interesting concept – a quick Google search reveals no history, no overall winner, no origins. In fact the only thing a Google search shows is a long list of recipients, which is no surprise considering nominees are required to nominate a further 15 blogs. I think this must be the most successful chain…

Free P.H.I.L.

FREE Persecuted Hens Into Liberty* In the UK there is a charity called the British Hen Welfare Trust. When battery farmed hens pass their optimum egg laying capacity (18-24 months) they are usually sold for cheap meat or culled – it’s cheaper to buy in a new high laying flock than have less eggs laid…

The Hound and the Hens

This is not the picture I want. Despite the mounting evidence that Deo may be more German Shepherd than not, I still hope to train him as a calm Livestock Guardian Dog. Deo’s destiny is to be a protective force of good against the many chicken-predators – I’ve written it on the internet so it must be true….

The Last Egg

Me: did the big chicken in the sky let you in? Lucy: Me: still not speaking to me, Luce? Lucy: Me: you know Lucy, we had our differences, but on some level you were always my favourite. You were the biggest chicken with the most beautiful plumage. You laid my first egg – I know…