Fox

One consideration which is always at the back, and often at the front of our minds has been the threat from foxes.

Yesterday we moved the coop off the concrete base next to the back door and onto the garden. This is to give the chickens a more exciting living environment when they're cooped up, which lets face it is most of the day (or until we invest in a chicken run). They can root around under foot digging up grubs and insects and generally doing other chickeny things - far more exciting than mooching around on a woodchip covered concrete floor. White chicken promptly dug a hole and had a full-on dirt bath so we clearly did the right thing but...

This move has posed a problem. Even the slyest fox would struggle to dig under a concrete path whilst even a flippin' chicken can dig under the soil to get out of a coop. Every night we hear the sound of foxes licking their lips.

Some of you may be thinking - is this really a threat? The answer is yes. A family of foxes live in the garden next-door-but-one (photos above) . At the weekend we were sitting in our dining room whilst the chickens were enjoying a few minutes r&r outside the coop in the garden when a fox trotted nonchalantly through the garden. I have moved faster but it was a long time ago. However,  my lythe athleticism was enough and I was able to head him (her) off at the pass.

Merry Christmas!

6.30am Christmas day. First things first. I dash downstairs to make sure they're in one piece. The prowling fox is not so cunning after all. They have survived the night - Merry Christmas Chickens!

Now we face our first problem. Family calls and we're off to Banbury for Christmas festivities for the day and - and here's the problem - the night. We make sure there's enough food and water, leave a treat of marmite and toast, (yes really), and ask our good neighbours to send us text updates. They do and everything is fine.

We're back on Boxing day afternoon and they're in great form. We needn't have worried. A well earned bottle of wine for the neighbours AND we had a lovely Christmas. This chicken keeping lark is easy...

Settling In

The wood shavings are down, the lice powder is dusted into nooks and crannies, the food pellets and water are in place. We gingerly open the boxes and put the three, surprisingly placid, chickens (Kirsty taught us how to hold them) into their new home. There must be something else we need, something else we should have done, something else we should have bought? We're not really sure what to do now, so we watch.

We watch them poo. And we address the thorny issue of names. They're not pets so should we call them anything? They poo some more. I'd call them 'One', 'Two' and 'Three'. Ruby puts forward 'Glitterball', 'Pancake' and 'Isabelle', names she has also suggested for our impending new human arrival. More pooing ensues and Sarah comes up with 'The Supremes'. We decide not to decide on names yet.

It's getting dark so we close their door. We're sure the fox will get them so we barricade them in with boxes, stepladders and upturned garden furniture. Not that we're paranoid.

Christmas Day tomorrow.