Ex-battery backyard Hens

Ahoy, happy Sunday…

I saw that LittleHill Animal Sanctuary had another “chicken run” this weekend and it made me think of my two little gals and how far we’ve come…

Back in May 2017 Barry and I adopted two ex battery hens who we named Constance and Maud.

(Please note, this is just a little account of our experience, I am no egg-spert!) 😀 😀 😀

I’d been following the LittleHill Animal Sanctuary page for a while, and I’d heard their owner/operator Susan speaking on the radio about their hen rescues (where she purchases soon-to-be-culled hens who have reached the end of their most productive stage and gives them to homes for a 6 euro donation) and I felt so compelled to help.

When I saw that they were including a hen run to Donegal, I jumped at the chance to adopt two of her rescues.

The gang at LittleHill gave lots of information via their facebook page, including welfare sheets in the run up to the rescue, but I thought I’d add my own little observations, tips, and mistakes that I made along the way…

1. They are full of personality. When we took Maud and Constance home, they were terrified of us (and us of them, if I’m honest!). They would literally turn their backs on us when we came near them. They were also afraid to leave their coop for 3 days. Once they emerged (I threatened to starve them out, if I’m honest. I think I’d made the coop a bit too comfy for them), they became much braver and cuter (and by “cute”, I mean pure sneaky!!). They still aren’t “pets”, but they are so clever and smart, they know which of us is good for meal worms or grapes and which of us leaves the door unlocked, thereby leaving opportunities to barge inside the house for an adventure!
2. Treats – like I say, they’re not really “pets”, they don’t enjoy being handled or lifted, however they are suckers for little treats. Most days, we give them a scattering of meal worms. This is usually a form of bribery, so they’ll get out of the utility room before they shite in it. They also love a cut up grape or a blueberry. On particularly cold evenings, we give them a little bit of porridge to warm them up.
3. Other food – apart from the occasional treat, they eat mainly Layers Pellets (which we buy from our local hardware shop) and drink plain water. Every week or so they get some poultry vitamin (see below), or a little bit of Apple Cider Vinegar in water. You can get really nice, tidy feeders for them, but Maud was very badly de-beaked and her beak is very crooked, so I feed them from large, deep dishes, which we take indoors at night to keep mice/rats away.
4. Scope out a good vet in your area – thankfully, Maud and Constance were in fairly ok shape when we got them, though Constance had a very inflamed back side and Maud’s comb was almost white and flopped in her eyes. We took them to our local vet for a check up, who was so good with them. Constance got an anti-inflammatory injection (sorry, C), and we also got some poultry vitamin/tonic to add to their drinking water to build them up. Not all vets are good with hens, so it’s good to find out/ask around before you’ve any issues.
5. Also, scope out a hen-sitter for holidays etc. This is a bigger issue than I had factored in at the start, luckily I have lovely neighbours who don’t mind popping down to play jailer at night and then rescuer in the morning. It’s good to have someone close by who you’ll trust to be in and out of your garden, don’t mind a bit of poop and will be happy to be paid in fresh eggs 🙂
6. They are noisier than you imagine – as I say, we adopted two hens, and I optimistically believed they’d be quiet, gentle little creatures with the odd “bock bock” thrown in for good measure. I was wrong. And how.  In particular, Constance is a foghorn at times. I live on a housing estate, so I get a little bit conscious of the noise at times, but I keep a batch of goodwill fresh eggs on hand just in case, but nobody’s complained yet!
7. They looove to wreck your garden. I felt so sorry for our scruffy, baldy, smelly little pair that I gave them free roam of the garden to forage and explore to their hearts’ content (once they got brave enough to venture out). 8 months on, and our back garden resembles the aftermath of an Oxegen/Witness weekend. “Foraging” includes some hard core raking of the grass with their claws, which along with the shite weather, has turned the back garden into a mud bath. So be warned.
8. On this note, I should have been bettered prepared, coop/run-wise. I bought a suuuper cute coop (and a starter kit with bedding, food and feeders) from Farm Fowl, which I varnished and added a run to, but I really should have marked out a bigger plot for them and kept them to it. I plan to do this now once the rain and snow (!) clear up a bit.
9. They poop a lot. And it stinks like nothing else on earth. I’ve had to toughen up my gag reflex – we clean their coop a couple of times a week and we clean the garden once a week – we hose and sweep the paved areas and we pick through the grass for “leavings”. On the upside, our compost heap has never been healthier!
10. The more you know, the better. I have to say, the hens are actually pretty self-reliant, once the coop door is open for them in the morning, they are happy to wander around the garden, making shite of it and occasionally squabbling over a slug or a worm (though sometimes if a cat or a robin comes in/past the garden, they might LOSE THEIR SHIT and we go out to “mind” them) however that’s not to say that the odd surprise or issue doesn’t come along. I find the Keeping Hens (Ireland) page to be an invaluable resource. The contributors are so friendly, helpful and a goldmine of useful information and support.
11. Speaking of self-reliance – after a few nights of learning the ropes, they will actually take themselves to bed at night fall. They don’t see well in the dark, so they toddle off by themselves and settle in to the coop. We learned this after about A MONTH OF CHASING THEM AROUND THE GARDEN LIKE SOMETHING OUT OF A BENNY HILL SKETCH. This once happened in full view of a wake that was happening across the street from us. Holy mortifyng shame. One night we went out later than usual and thought we’d been robbed! The cuteness though, when we go out to lock the coop and you can hear them snoring… adorable.
12. Keep out critters – foxes and minks are a serious threat to hens, even on a housing estate, it’s one of my biggest welfare concerns with them. To this end, we’ve made sure their nesting box is locked at night, and the whole coop/run is enclosed with thick wire. The run sits on concrete, so there’s no chance of being tunneled under. Mother foxes are ruthless (as they need to be, in fairness) and will really go the distance to take hens, so you’ve got to be really wary of that. Sadly, it happens to even the most observant and experienced hen owners. Foxes have got to eat, after all. 😦
13. Take photos. If you adopt rescue hens, try to get a photo of them early on, it’s really amazing how quickly they flourish, regain their feathers and perk up. It’s lovely to have a before/after photo of them, though I get a bit emotional when I look at ours. The true cost of cheap eggs. 😦

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, and I realise how naive we were about adopting hens, but I just adore them now…

Yes, they bully me for meal worms. Yes, they barge their way in to the house uninvited and poop in the kitchen. Yes, the initial set-up was a bit expensive, seeing as all we get in return is an egg a day. Yes, they have ruined my garden. Yes, they nearly kill me on a daily basis by running around right under my feet… Where was I going with this?

Seriously, we absolutely love our girls. They’re so funny to watch, so crafty and full of personality.

I think in a way they rescued us too.