Jacob brings Ginger and Penelope to their new home.

I’m happy to announce that we have two new five-month-old pullets (young hens) that joined our tiny flock of two. Sweetpea and Daisy (last ones out of our original flock of six) are now 5 1/2 years old. Sweetpea, the barred rock, still lays 5 eggs a week. Really remarkable for an old hen. Daisy, the Buff Orpington lays 1-2 eggs a week but she pecks their shells and eats the egg inside before we can save it. I know that this “bad hen” habit would be the death of any farm hen, but Daisy is so dear to me……..

We’ve been trying to think of a way to add a couple of hens to our flock this year. As some of you know, I fell in my beloved garden and broke my hip and femur in early March. I’ve been in a wheelchair with “no weight=bearing” orders until surgery in mid August so I didn’t feel that I could raise little chicks as I’d done in the past. Our junior-high neighbor, Jacob, came to the rescue and raised three chicks for a school project. One died but the other two are now of laying age. Breeds: a Buff Orpington and a Barred Rock. “Would I like to have them?” YOU BET!

Daisy and Sweetpea jump on Don's lap and keep and eye on their new "roommates".

Of course, I’m worried about the abuse that they will have to endure as a new “pecking order” is established. Sweetpea immediately went on the attack with the little Buff Orpington. She was offended that the hen was impersonating her good friend, “Daisy”. We’ve put in a temporary fence across the coop to give the old hens a chance to adjust to their new “roommates” and give the new girls a chance to adjust to their new surroundings. Don went out after dark and put the new girls on the roost with the old gals, then went out at dawn to put them outside again before they could get picked on.

Jacob had named the barred rock “Penelope”, and the Buff Orpington, “Ginger”. We’ll keep those names. They are already  tame but they will have to learn to tolerate our “sniffing” labradoodles. Our two old girls had their “beaks bent out of shape” over these “intruders” and immediately went to sit on Don’s lap to claim their territory. Watching this transition will be hard for me as I know it is not possible for everyone to get along, especially at the beginning. Adding to an established flock takes adjustment  on everyone’s part.

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Sweetpea and Daisy have a blooming rosebush in their outdoor coop.

Last week we had a house full of guests. Our youngest son Milo, was married on our deck overlooking the ocean on a sunny afternoon. Guests wandered through the garden and were entertained by Daisy and Sweetpea. The hens love people and several children who were in the wedding party, kept letting them of their outdoor pen. While our garden is fenced, there are a pair of hawks that  keep watch on the hens and when they are not protected, will fly down and sit on the fence, waiting for an opportunity to snag a chicken dinner. After telling the children not to let the hens out again, we put an old padlock on the gate so that we didn’t have to keep watch on the mischievous children. Daisy and Sweetpea had to view the ceremony from “behind bars”.

Wedding on garden deck

"Scooter", one of our six-week-old Australian labradoodles, meets the hens.

We’ve had the best luck with our two Australian Labradoodles and the two elderly hens Daisy and Sweetpea. Labradoodles are rather high energy dogs and I really thought that we would never be able to let both hens and dogs out in the yard together to free-range. But, they have both learned to tolerate each other quite nicely. The dogs still like to sniff and will follow the hens around until the old girls can’t take it any longer and turn, puff up, and say, “That’s enough!”. The dogs go back to doing what they were doing and the hens go back to digging in the dirt beside me.

I love being outside with my two old hens and my two young dogs. I was unable to be out in my garden as much as I wanted this fall because our “Tillie”, a breeder that we co-own with a professional, was bred in October and produced the sweetest, smartest, puppies for us to raise. Husband Don and I were kept busy inside with the six little furry bundles so it was fun when they were ready to get out and explore. One of our favorite puppies “Scooter” was the only one really interested in chickens. Maybe a little too interested and we had to put the girls in their run when the puppies were out. The puppies have all been sold and are in wonderful homes. None have chickens to play with.

See puppies here.

Pretty Poppy a Silver-laced Wyandotte Hen

Poppy, our pretty silver-laced Wyandotte died today. I’m not terribly distraught because she died of what I believe is old age. I found her under the roost. She was paralyzed on one side of her body. No blood. No broken bones. Just laying with her wings spread out. I put her in a cage in the garden shed with food and water. She ate a little. But in the morning she was gone.

The hens are approaching  5 years of age. Their toes are twisted and they look to have arthritis. They no longer lay eggs but I don’t have the heart to get rid of them. I’m down to two hens now, Daisy and Sweetpea. Both have been through much more than Poppy. Daisy has been sick twice and Sweetpea was attacked by a dog. They both survived their mishaps and are still strutting through the garden, taking dust baths, and running to me when I have a treat in my hand or call “chick, chick, chick”.

What to do with old hens is a dilemma that we, who have pet chickens, find ourselves in.  We can’t keep building on to our coops to house new “young chicks” who only lay a few years, then retire. Most of us don’t have room in our backyards.

Perhaps we need to lobby for a breed that will lay and live longer. Is it possible? They certainly have developed chickens that lay more eggs than ever thought possible.

I will miss Poppy. She was a level-headed survivor. When a hawk would fly over, Poppy was the first to sound the alarm and run for cover. She loved to free-range, scratching deep under the artichoke leaves. She was not as tame as Daisy and Sweetpea and did not appreciate me picking her up. She was a bit of a “wild thing” but oh so beautiful. I don’t think I’ll get another Wyandotte. I had trouble with both of my Wyandotte girls. The golden Wyandotte was “mean girl” (story here) and I had to rehome her, and Poppy was a “wild child” (see story) and I had to separate her when she was young. But, none-the-less. Poppy was one of the original six and her passing marks time in my own life.