From the outset, our hens have been great layers and we get a nice quota of eggs every day. This has slowed a little with the onset of darker days, but that is to be expected and we still have enough eggs to go around and also to share with friends.
We try to make sure that the hens get regular treats, such as apple cores or melon seeds, and specially reserved kitchen scraps.
To ward off the danger of avian flu from the wild birds sharing these scraps, I recently started putting the treats into one of the outdoor shelters we have in the hen paddock. It was then I spotted a clutch of four eggs under the hen house.
Covert layer
I was working the next day, but left instructions that these eggs were to be collected and kept separate from the daily eggs collected from nest boxes.
They were probably rotten, so I wanted to dispose of them without dying from the smell of rotten eggs. It has to be the worst, most lingering disgusting smell imaginable.
With help from a stick and our au pair, and keenly observed by Katy, Nelly removed a whopping 28 eggs from under the hen house.
She then proceeded to fix up and secure the wire to prevent further covert laying.
We decided that Goldilocks was the culprit, as she had been sneaking under the gate into the old pigsty to lay in there and was caught red-handed.
She may have an accomplice or two this time, as we are back up to the full quota of eggs now.
Stolen eggs
Our dog Joy has a track record; there’s been mauled furniture, chewed shoes, shredded dog beds, devoured cakes… the list is comprehensive.
Now she’s older, surely this puppy phase of eating or chewing stuff should be over.
This was the all-too-swift thought that ran through my head as I left Joy in the porch with the freshly collected eggs and madly dashed to playschool, determined not to be labelled that mother - the one who is never on time!
When Katy and I arrived home, there was no sign of the eggs. Vanished. I questioned my sanity, I was sure I had left six eggs right there, on the windowsill.
In the chaos of my daily juggle, throwing all the balls of life - school runs, chores, meals, work - and knowing the odds, I threw caution to the wind.
Perhaps our greedy pooch would not touch this tempting meal. Hah, not so!
I spotted the smallest scrap of shell on the floor. Joy had eaten the lot, a full half dozen, nothing spared - shell and all! I won’t make that mistake twice!
Taming the rooster
Nelly has been working hard on catching Blackie the rooster, and taming him. After the unfortunate 'tail feather' incident, I’ve refused to try catching him, so she worked it out herself.
Her methods have varied a bit from stealth to ambush and gradually they have both gained confidence in each other.
Hannah Bolger's daughters Katy and Nelly were delighted to get new hens just as the schools closed due to COVID-19.
So much so that when I came home from work, I met two excited, happy little girls breathlessly stumbling over each other to tell me all about the adventures of bringing Blackie into the house.
How he was caught, how he was transported, what he thought of being in the house.
“He was sitting on the couch watching TV mum!”
And what he got up to.
“He pooed on the table Mum!”
Katy was chief observer and echoed all Nelly’s chat with affirming nods and smiles. Daily life can be full of adventures!
Read more
'I was relieved to leave Dublin behind and breathe in the fresh air of Wicklow'
Bolger blogs: ever tried, ever failed……?
From the outset, our hens have been great layers and we get a nice quota of eggs every day. This has slowed a little with the onset of darker days, but that is to be expected and we still have enough eggs to go around and also to share with friends.
We try to make sure that the hens get regular treats, such as apple cores or melon seeds, and specially reserved kitchen scraps.
To ward off the danger of avian flu from the wild birds sharing these scraps, I recently started putting the treats into one of the outdoor shelters we have in the hen paddock. It was then I spotted a clutch of four eggs under the hen house.
Covert layer
I was working the next day, but left instructions that these eggs were to be collected and kept separate from the daily eggs collected from nest boxes.
They were probably rotten, so I wanted to dispose of them without dying from the smell of rotten eggs. It has to be the worst, most lingering disgusting smell imaginable.
With help from a stick and our au pair, and keenly observed by Katy, Nelly removed a whopping 28 eggs from under the hen house.
She then proceeded to fix up and secure the wire to prevent further covert laying.
We decided that Goldilocks was the culprit, as she had been sneaking under the gate into the old pigsty to lay in there and was caught red-handed.
She may have an accomplice or two this time, as we are back up to the full quota of eggs now.
Stolen eggs
Our dog Joy has a track record; there’s been mauled furniture, chewed shoes, shredded dog beds, devoured cakes… the list is comprehensive.
Now she’s older, surely this puppy phase of eating or chewing stuff should be over.
This was the all-too-swift thought that ran through my head as I left Joy in the porch with the freshly collected eggs and madly dashed to playschool, determined not to be labelled that mother - the one who is never on time!
When Katy and I arrived home, there was no sign of the eggs. Vanished. I questioned my sanity, I was sure I had left six eggs right there, on the windowsill.
In the chaos of my daily juggle, throwing all the balls of life - school runs, chores, meals, work - and knowing the odds, I threw caution to the wind.
Perhaps our greedy pooch would not touch this tempting meal. Hah, not so!
I spotted the smallest scrap of shell on the floor. Joy had eaten the lot, a full half dozen, nothing spared - shell and all! I won’t make that mistake twice!
Taming the rooster
Nelly has been working hard on catching Blackie the rooster, and taming him. After the unfortunate 'tail feather' incident, I’ve refused to try catching him, so she worked it out herself.
Her methods have varied a bit from stealth to ambush and gradually they have both gained confidence in each other.
Hannah Bolger's daughters Katy and Nelly were delighted to get new hens just as the schools closed due to COVID-19.
So much so that when I came home from work, I met two excited, happy little girls breathlessly stumbling over each other to tell me all about the adventures of bringing Blackie into the house.
How he was caught, how he was transported, what he thought of being in the house.
“He was sitting on the couch watching TV mum!”
And what he got up to.
“He pooed on the table Mum!”
Katy was chief observer and echoed all Nelly’s chat with affirming nods and smiles. Daily life can be full of adventures!
Read more
'I was relieved to leave Dublin behind and breathe in the fresh air of Wicklow'
Bolger blogs: ever tried, ever failed……?
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