good bye Beep Beep

Beep Beep is dead.
It all came as quite a shock. One minute he was happily having a little dust bath and the next minute he was the victim of a viscious attack by his fellow chickens.
About a week earlier I decided that Beep Beep needed to go and live with his own kind as I was having visions of scrubbing chicken poo off the carpet for years to come! He was bigger and eating well on his own, and seemed strong enough to join the world of chickens where he belonged. So like a calculating and cold hearted farmer I set about making the arrangements for my relocation programme. First, the nasty hen that kept chasing and pecking Beep Beep and who was losing feathers and getting quite old, must go. I ordered her into the pot. Hariet did it. I admit I tasted it and she was as tough as nails...
Then with a special red light Charles and I snuck into the hen house after dark and slipped Beep Beep under one of the sleepy moms. She willingly and literally took him under her wing and with a final and content 'beep beep" our little chicken had flown the nest. I patted myself on the back for a job well done.
The next morning he seemed slightly shy and timid around his bigger brothers and sisters but he got in the mix and had his share of breakfast and seemed quite chuffed with himself. When he won a literal tug ó war with another chick who had tried to take his worm, we believed he was a fighter and would survive against all odds. Over the next few days it seemed obvious though that he wasn't going to join everyone in their daily explorations for worms and instead kept to himself in the hen house. But he seemed happy and was served every morning with a plate of worms of his own. All seemed fine and well. Or so we thought.
Then one late afternoon Anna came running into the kitchen, "Mom," she said in quiet shock, then dissolving into tears she told me that Beep Beep had been "pecked and pecked and pecked!" we ran to the hen house and there he was lying on the straw where Anna had placed him, gasping for air. I picked him up and took him to the house but it was too late he died in my hands. Anna was beside herself. Charley said with stoic maturity and insight: "Dont worry Anna, its only his fluffy body that's gone, he's still with us."
Charles immediately dug a grave and prepared a little tombstone: "Here sleeps Beep" it says. We sang "Baa Baa Black sheep" and "Twinkle, twinkle little star" before covering him up and throwing flowers. Anna stood by his graveside and wept, great heaving sobs.
Later in the bath she told me the whole story. She had taken him out to scratch on the grass and the next thing he was chased by the two red hens and scratched and pecked repeatedly. Anna came to his rescue but clearly it was too late.
Poor little girl, such trauma to witness and her first big loss of a life she loved. Ofcourse I wallowed in my fair share of guilt...if only I had kept him in the house...
May you rest in peace Beep Beep - you brought happiness to our home in your short and precious life.

the livin' is good, for some

Summer is officially upon us and life on the farm is heating up. Apart from a marked increase in our braaing (BBQ) and beach time, we seem to be pretty productive.

Our spring planting efforts are starting to pay off with our tunnels looking lush and fruitful. I now have marrows, butter lettuce, rocket, spinach and cabbage to sell, plus loads of herbs. And thanks also to my fellow organic growing neighbours, my little farm shop is starting to look quite full of yummy homegrown produce.

But most exciting of all: my hen house is finally complete! After months of nagging my husband, who is really good at any form of hammer and nail work, he finally, without much todo, whipped it up in one afternoon. Thank you!
Our run of youngster chickens, who because of a moody uptight aunty hen, have been ostracized from their mother since young and have had to do with our Magnolia tree as home, did not know what had hit them. After being completely free range since birth, they were suddenly chased, cornered and dive tackled by three grown men, before being deposited into a fresh clean, and enclosed, home. Clearly in shock by this instant change in fortune, they stood around uncomfortably in their new surroundings with beaks agape. And to add insult to injury two of their brothers had mysteriosly vanished...

I feel really bad about this but as Charles said, if I want to farm I'm going to need to toughen up about certain things like selling my first born roosters to our Malawian workers - for the pot. After promising our guys they could have their pick, I got a gleeful knock on the kitchen window one evening and a R20 note thrust into my hand, "For my rooster," said Pearson with a huge grin. I was totally unprepared and hadn't even yet had a moment to say to good bye to the doomed chicken before Pearson and Lusungu picked him out, ran helter, skelter around the garden and caught him. Ofcourse he was the most handsome of all the roosters - how this affects his taste I dont know? And had I offered Pearson a plucked, frozen, free range chicken for supper, I know he would not have felt nearly as rewarded. So a very chuffed Pearson  cycled home with my rooster tied in a plastic packet to his handlebars with only his confused little face peeking out, obviously unaware of the fate that awaited him. 

Next it was the little red rooster that went to Hariet, our nanny. When the girls found out, Anna, the animal lover, was not at all happy to hear of it and ran off to count the chickens only to come back confirming, very sadly, that yes there were two roosters missing, and why should this be? Charlotte's response was simply: "What a pity that Hariet had to eat the red rooster, he was so cute." I have to give it to them: they both, albeit in a vastly different ways, have a healthy approach to life.

Hariet later brought us a small taste of Red Rooster. I simply couldn't do it. I admit I'm a flake.

So there is one young rooster left which I plan to keep as I can't handle another death. I've put all of them: hens, big and small, maternal and not, plus two roosters, Big Daddy and his son, all in the one hen house. Once they have settled in they will go back to their routine of being let out at lunch time, but in the mean time we shall see what transpires. I'm half expecting a stand-off between the two males, but so far it seems quite peaceful.