Meet Blackie. She's boss hen; the leader of the pack.
She's also pretty odd at times as you can probably see.
And already Blackie has some stories to tell.
One day, for some strange reason, she decided my mosaic work shelves were the ONLY place to hide and lay. My tiles were scratched out everywhere. Even while I was reorganising and blocking the shelves off she was looking for a good spot, if not on the shelves then maybe the rubbish bin would do! When shooed on, she tried the back of the car behind the fridge. And then in a box of spiky aloes. Who knows how a black hens mind works!
If you had told me a few years ago that I'd be nursing a sick chook in the lounge room, I would not have believed you but it's true!
A few weeks ago, guzzler that she is, Blackie scoffed down some rice Steph fed them and as a result it stuck in her throat. Coughing turned to wheezing, and I turned to Dr Google.
No... def not a virus - fit as a fiddle and getting about.
But a blockage was more than likely. 'Feed the hen small pieces of bread soaked in vegetable oil and massage the throat' it said. 'Right!' I said.
Well, oily bread was totally irresistible for the flock so I bundled her up in a hand towel and we headed inside. Blackie isn't one for being held; she's far too important for that, but after 5 mins or so I swear she was near to dozing off. And after 10 mins of massage and a final oily dose she was off, and by the next day totally healed. No more gluggy rice for her.
And it goes on - today she decided that she should be inside the feed tub, and would have stayed there had I not bundled her out. Funny hen.