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Chickens (Miscellaneous; Compendium)

My cats wouldn't touch my hens. Chickens are surprisingly large, hefty and make the most enormous amount of noise if being chased.

Doesn't the Channel Islands have sparrowhawks? They were far and away the biggest threat to my hens - foxes be damned.
 
catseye said:
My cats wouldn't touch my hens. Chickens are surprisingly large, hefty and make the most enormous amount of noise if being chased.

Doesn't the Channel Islands have sparrowhawks? They were far and away the biggest threat to my hens - foxes be damned.
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Our dogs give the chickens a wide berth - the black lab was asleep in the sun when a chicken wandered past and took a peck at his pecker - blood was drawn. I've never heard such a strange cry from a dog before.
They will eat frogs, mice and fledglings - pecking them to death first. No I don't watch them but I can hear them and always get there too late.
 
mikfez said:
Our dogs give the chickens a wide berth - the black lab was asleep in the sun when a chicken wandered past and took a peck at his pecker - blood was drawn. I've never heard such a strange cry from a dog before.
They will eat frogs, mice and fledglings - pecking them to death first. No I don't watch them but I can hear them and always get there too late.
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Depends on the dog, though. My big old collie-cross took no notice of them, the little Border Terrier/Jack Russell was slightly scared of them, so I thought dogs and hens were good to go. Then I got a Patterdale terrier, and firm demarcation lines had to be drawn (ie, we could NEVER leave the back door open when the hens were out). That dog has 'chase and kill' written on her soul.
 
Ladyloafer said:
I'm no chicken expert but I understand the reason male chicks aren't reared for meat is because they take longer to grow to size than females, and then are a bit less tender meat, and its just not economical. Baby chickens are sexed and if males, are suffocated and/or chucked in a grinder.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chick_culling . There are videos on youtube but I won't link because, eueww.
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The male chicks that are killed are the ones bred for the egg industry and males don't lay eggs. The chickens grown for the meat industry are a different type and are barely recognisable as chickens since they have been bred only to grow as much as possible in as short a time as possible and just lie on this ground eating all day. They can be either male or female since eggs don't matter.

If you had a flock of chickens and a cock in your back garden you could certainly grow the male chicks up and slaughter them for meat before they mature. It doesn't happen on an industrial scale now because people want chickens as cheaply as possible and so the above has to happen. And if you think that's bad, imagine how bad things must be in the US where the chickens are grown in such horrible conditions they need to be bathed in chlorine to try and make them safe to eat (and even with this, the US has way higher levels of food poisoning than we do).

On a slightly lighter note, much as I am frustrated and angry at the way people abandon animals all over the place, the story linked in post 6 above has the following quote. It made me smile.

"I think it is going to cause an accident one day. The chickens are always crossing the road all the time
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Commercial egg-layers only have a useful (business) life of 12 months - the chickens are then either sold or gassed.
We've a 4yo who's still laying good eggs but not the 1 a day necessary for a business.
My ex-father-in-law had a maggot farm that used to take delivery of a van-loads of chickens from egg farms - the exhaust gas was used for killing them and not all were dead when they arrived. He also used to take pets that vets had put down.
 
mikfez said:
Commercial egg-layers only have a useful (business) life of 12 months - the chickens are then either sold or gassed.
We've a 4yo who's still laying good eggs but not the 1 a day necessary for a business.
My ex-father-in-law had a maggot farm that used to take delivery of a van-loads of chickens from egg farms - the exhaust gas was used for killing them and not all were dead when they arrived. He also used to take pets that vets had put down.
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I'm sorry? A maggot farm?
 
A good handful of friends adopt ex layers. A garden, safety at night and good food, they produce enough eggs for the families and enough to sell on.
 
Some people have to listen to a chicken as well as watch it.

A French court has ruled in favour of a cockerel owner after her bird's early morning crowing provoked a noise pollution complaint from neighbours.

Maurice, who roosts on the picturesque isle of Oléron off the Atlantic coast, was accused of disturbing a retired couple who own a holiday home nearby. News of his legal troubles flew around the world, gaining him a flock of supporters.

His owner, Corinne Fesseau, was cock-a-hoop at news of the ruling.

"It's a victory for everyone in the same situation as me. I hope it will set a precedent for them," she was quoted by AFP news agency as saying.

At a hearing in July, her lawyers had argued the complaint was ridiculous because crowing roosters were part of country life. Ms Fesseau, who has lived on Oléron for 35 years, would have had to move or somehow silence Maurice if the judge had ruled against her. She now will be given €1,000 (£900; $1,100) in damages from the plaintiffs instead, her lawyer said on Thursday.

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-49593954
 
I remember visiting my parents at their old house ages ago. They'd kept chickens before, the roost being almost the length of a football pitch away from the house.

After getting out of my car, I clocked a large rooster pelting towards me so decided to stand still and turn away slightly to show it I wasn't a threat. That didn't work so I quickly let myself into the house, did the usual pleasantries with my parents then mentioned the rooster. My Mum said something along the lines of "He's evil, he keeps trying to attack us every time we go outside .. he's not even scared of your Dad."

When it was time to leave, sure enough this little nutter started running across the field away from his three chicken lovers (perhaps where my Dad went wrong?) and at me full pelt again. I was a bit embarrassed about being afraid of it so I decided to 'nut up' and not run away from the Michael Myers of the chicken world. That didn't work so I ended up grabbing one of those old school round dustbin lids to use as a shield while the f****r kept going for me. I hid behind a partition wall but it found me. The problem was that this little bastard belonged to my Dad so I couldn't just kick the hell out of it and also none of us are into animal cruelty so I darted into my car to escape.

What this cocky rooster had no way of knowing, sadly in retrospect, was that my Sister's (then) toddler daughter was starting to come round to the house on visits. Next time I visited I asked my Mum where the psycho rooster was, she said .. "Your Dad got hold of him, took him over to the front gate, put his neck in it and broke it."

game over.
 
mikfez said:
My black Lab was snoozing in the sun when one of our chickens wondered past him and pecked the end of his dick - drew blood. He didn't half yelp. They can be nasty buggers them chickens.
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I bet you reconsidered the nudie sunbathing after that.
 
Swifty said:
I remember visiting my parents at their old house ages ago. They'd kept chickens before, the roost being almost the length of a football pitch away from the house.

After getting out of my car, I clocked a large rooster pelting towards me so decided to stand still and turn away slightly to show it I wasn't a threat. That didn't work so I quickly let myself into the house, did the usual pleasantries with my parents then mentioned the rooster. My Mum said something along the lines of "He's evil, he keeps trying to attack us every time we go outside .. he's not even scared of your Dad."

When it was time to leave, sure enough this little nutter started running across the field away from his three chicken lovers (perhaps where my Dad went wrong?) and at me full pelt again. I was a bit embarrassed about being afraid of it so I decided to 'nut up' and not run away from the Michael Myers of the chicken world. That didn't work so I ended up grabbing one of those old school round dustbin lids to use as a shield while the f****r kept going for me. I hid behind a partition wall but it found me. The problem was that this little bastard belonged to my Dad so I couldn't just kick the hell out of it and also none of us are into animal cruelty so I darted into my car to escape.

What this cocky rooster had no way of knowing, sadly in retrospect, was that my Sister's (then) toddler daughter was starting to come round to the house on visits. Next time I visited I asked my Mum where the psycho rooster was, she said .. "Your Dad got hold of him, took him over to the front gate, put his neck in it and broke it."

game over.
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I guess your version of The Avengers is different to the Marvel version.
 
Analogue Boy said:
I guess your version of The Avengers is different to the Marvel version.
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I'll smile and nod and agree but truthfully, I don't know because I don't watch super hero films. I expect you're probably right.
 
Swifty said:
I remember visiting my parents at their old house ages ago. They'd kept chickens before, the roost being almost the length of a football pitch away from the house.

After getting out of my car, I clocked a large rooster pelting towards me so decided to stand still and turn away slightly to show it I wasn't a threat. That didn't work so I quickly let myself into the house, did the usual pleasantries with my parents then mentioned the rooster. My Mum said something along the lines of "He's evil, he keeps trying to attack us every time we go outside .. he's not even scared of your Dad."

When it was time to leave, sure enough this little nutter started running across the field away from his three chicken lovers (perhaps where my Dad went wrong?) and at me full pelt again. I was a bit embarrassed about being afraid of it so I decided to 'nut up' and not run away from the Michael Myers of the chicken world. That didn't work so I ended up grabbing one of those old school round dustbin lids to use as a shield while the f****r kept going for me. I hid behind a partition wall but it found me. The problem was that this little bastard belonged to my Dad so I couldn't just kick the hell out of it and also none of us are into animal cruelty so I darted into my car to escape.

What this cocky rooster had no way of knowing, sadly in retrospect, was that my Sister's (then) toddler daughter was starting to come round to the house on visits. Next time I visited I asked my Mum where the psycho rooster was, she said .. "Your Dad got hold of him, took him over to the front gate, put his neck in it and broke it."

game over.
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Harsh but inevitable. Chicken was on the table that day?
 
There was a walk-through shed on the farm that provided a dry route to the chicken house. Nothing of interest was stored in it, not even any mice or rats around so I didn't play there often. Occasionally however there was a large hessian sack hanging on a wall hook in a dark corner and a couple of times I heard a muted cluck as I passed - hmmm, some-one has hung up a sack of chickens - wonder what's for Tea.
Once there was a hole in the sack with a beak poking out, I touched it to see if the owner was alive or dead and got pecked. So finally I asked my Dad about the sack and he explained something about broody hens, diurnal cycles and hormones : sometimes a hen got so broody it wouldn't leave the nesting box, not even for food or water. The chicken would be put in the sack and left in the dark for about 24 hours until the hormonal cycle got re-set. It was then let out in the chicken house and if it went to the food and water bowls, all well and good. If it went straight to the nesting box then it was put back into the sack for another day. Never got taught any of this interesting stuff at school.
 
Swifty said:
I remember visiting my parents at their old house ages ago. They'd kept chickens before, the roost being almost the length of a football pitch away from the house.

After getting out of my car, I clocked a large rooster pelting towards me so decided to stand still and turn away slightly to show it I wasn't a threat. That didn't work so I quickly let myself into the house, did the usual pleasantries with my parents then mentioned the rooster. My Mum said something along the lines of "He's evil, he keeps trying to attack us every time we go outside .. he's not even scared of your Dad."

When it was time to leave, sure enough this little nutter started running across the field away from his three chicken lovers (perhaps where my Dad went wrong?) and at me full pelt again. I was a bit embarrassed about being afraid of it so I decided to 'nut up' and not run away from the Michael Myers of the chicken world. That didn't work so I ended up grabbing one of those old school round dustbin lids to use as a shield while the f****r kept going for me. I hid behind a partition wall but it found me. The problem was that this little bastard belonged to my Dad so I couldn't just kick the hell out of it and also none of us are into animal cruelty so I darted into my car to escape.

What this cocky rooster had no way of knowing, sadly in retrospect, was that my Sister's (then) toddler daughter was starting to come round to the house on visits. Next time I visited I asked my Mum where the psycho rooster was, she said .. "Your Dad got hold of him, took him over to the front gate, put his neck in it and broke it."

game over.
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Coq au vin?
 
I was watching a TV documentary long time past on the history of Archeological programmes on the BBC. It looked back on a fly-on-the-wall series covering the reconstruction of Iron Age Village life with real modern people. Viewers tuned in because of the growing conflict between the participants, not because they wanted to learn about Iron Age life (this is now considered one of the first Reality TV shows). Because of this many Archeologists cautiously welcomed the rising popularity of their profession on TV, but did not like the way it was being treated as entertainment. One such 'celebrity' Archeologist was Sir Robert Mortimer Wheeler, ex British Army Officer, who modelled his style of excavation on Pitt Rivers and appeared regularly on 'Animal, Vegetable, Mineral ?' He considered there was no research benefit in the reconstructed Iron Age and Saxon village Communities springing up in the UK and populated by amateur Bohemian types looking for a more natural life-style.
However Mortimer Wheeler did need funding for his next Dig and was pursuaded (by the BBC probably) to visit the Chieftain at one of these reconstruction villages to give the proceedings some credibility. After running out of small talk over his mug of bark-tea in the Roundhouse, Mortimer Wheeler glanced around his surroundings and noticed a shadow just inside the doorway that the sun had cast over a shallow depression in the ground. This was exactly the same shape depression in the roughly the same spot as in Roundhouses he had previously excavated, some only a few weeks before - no-one knew their origin, purpose or significance.
He naturally asked the Chieftain who replied 'Oh that's just where the chickens come in for a dust-bath'
Anyone who has kept free-range chickens, whether in the 1970's, 700 AD or 700 BC will recognise the truth in that. But it did take the reconstruction of an ancient village to prove it.
 
Feral fowls finished off.

Why did the jogger cross the road? Because he was being chased by a gang of 100 feral chickens.

Or at least he was before they were killed by marksmen brought in to end the “nuisance” they have been causing residents on Jersey. A row has broken out on the largest of the Channel Islands after a cull of 65 chickens was ordered by the government after years of complaints. It is believed that they were once pets but were dumped in the wild after becoming too unruly and went on to form gangs up to 100 strong, there being no foxes on the island to reduce their number.

Some islanders have been complaining to the authorities for years that the birds have been tormenting them by crowing in the middle of the night and chasing joggers off “their” territory. They are said to have wrecked gardens and are a danger to traffic when they cross the roads.

https://www.thetimes.co.uk/edition/news/jersey-feral-chickens-meet-a-violent-end-ckm2mj86z
 
Frideswide said:
A good handful of friends adopt ex layers. A garden, safety at night and good food, they produce enough eggs for the families and enough to sell on.
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We did. After a year or so they tend to have health problems and become egg-bound on a regular basis. Out of six, all of which made year one, one died more or less every six months after that. They need to be very well fed (plenty of layer's mash and corn), as otherwise, as they produce so many eggs they become unwell and the eggs become thin shelled and watery.
 
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