Our new residents have arrived. Four Barred Plymouth Rock chickens – one rooster and three hens. They arrived when I was out at work in town so it was quite a shock to see them huddling in their hill billy shack.
I was quick to get them fed and watered (Fortnum and Mason are loaning one of their bowls) and they seemed relieved to have some refreshment to overcome the shock of moving from the suburbs to the country.
Although I was keeping my distance they seemed OK in their new home. The bassets are less pleased though barking at the furry things on their land.
For the next week or so we’ll keep them in their pen so that they can get aclimatised and understand that it’s their home. The permanent house will be coming in the next week and Al assures me in the meantime that they’ll be fine camping out.
As it went dark this evening they’d found their roosting spot and were huddling together to keep warm. MT will not be able to see them for a while as it’s pretty dark when he leaves and pitch black when he’s back. We’ll save the naming until the weekend.
Well, most of the naming anyway. We’ve decided on names of royalty and since we’ve only got one boy it has to be George (named after my favourite King, George III). Watch this space for the naming ceremony for the hens.
Food, let me at it……
Blimey, there’s more!
Bottoms up Hill Billies
George is taking no prisoners on his way around the feeder