This story of your flock threads looked fun!! So here I am leaping on the bandwagon like a deer into the side of my car when I'm already late to work.
I have two main flocks, as I have three roosters. All of my flocks have to be in some kind of enclosure due to neighborhood rules as well as an abundance of predators. In one pen, there's three pheonix chickens (one rooster) and two adolescent cochin hens. Usually there would be three cochin hens, but one of the girlies is becoming friends with the turkey until I can find another friend for the turkey. You would be surprised at how difficult it is to find young turkeys in my area who aren't three times her size or itty bitty. But, back to the flock. The pheonix and cochins stay to themselves for the most part. I don't want to say my chickens are breedist, but...well, when the egg is laid, sit on it.
The other flock has six hens of questionable parentage and two silkie roosters. The roos surprisingly get along well, as they were sold to me as a breeding pair. I guess Simone really wanted to be Simon. So long as they don't scuffle, we are all fine. Four of their hens look like barred rocks, or other similar breeds. One is a white with faded grey-black collar of feathers and some black in her tail, and the last looks fairly fancy. I know I was told what her breed was, but for the life of me, I can't recall. The last two described were particular favorites of their previous rooster, and are still growing back feathers in the saddle area. So far, they have made great progress! My two boys are thoroughly whipped into shape by the darkest barred rock look alike, and leave the girls alone for the most part.
The flocks are next to one another, and I love hearing the lads crow together in the morning. My neighbors haven't complained yet. Probably because I haven't ever reported their loose dogs to animal control. The turkey and the hen are a bit farther away, but I can't physically move their pen by myself. The plan was to have a couple turkeys, and some chickens. But sick chicks from the feed store left me with only one turkey. For awhile, I thought the turkey was not going to make it, either. But with advice from a very decent vet who was one of the first NOT to tell me just to destroy the bird and get a healthy one, the turkey is thriving. She spent many a week in my bathroom being nurses back to health before she was big and strong enough to go out into the real world.
Along with the birds, I also have two very useless "barn cats". Two prissy little things who showed up one day and have refused to stop eating the food I leave out for them. They also believe it is their sacred duty to taste test the feed before letting the chickens eat. Well, before Duke accidentally ran over one of the cats while he was screaming in panic because I accidentally looked at him. He isn't used to people, so loses his little mind if our eyes happen to meet. The cat, while deeply offended, was perfectly fine after being trampled by a silkie. She has been extra cautious about going in that pen with me, though, ever since. They are also my official egg quality control officers. Here's a picture of them telling me the eggs are all bad and need to be sacrificed to the working staff. Short haired cat screaming is Mistress Meows on paper, Underfoot by popular vote. Long haired cat whose paws were in the egg basket is Hissy Fit, or Floppy Cat.
I have two main flocks, as I have three roosters. All of my flocks have to be in some kind of enclosure due to neighborhood rules as well as an abundance of predators. In one pen, there's three pheonix chickens (one rooster) and two adolescent cochin hens. Usually there would be three cochin hens, but one of the girlies is becoming friends with the turkey until I can find another friend for the turkey. You would be surprised at how difficult it is to find young turkeys in my area who aren't three times her size or itty bitty. But, back to the flock. The pheonix and cochins stay to themselves for the most part. I don't want to say my chickens are breedist, but...well, when the egg is laid, sit on it.
The other flock has six hens of questionable parentage and two silkie roosters. The roos surprisingly get along well, as they were sold to me as a breeding pair. I guess Simone really wanted to be Simon. So long as they don't scuffle, we are all fine. Four of their hens look like barred rocks, or other similar breeds. One is a white with faded grey-black collar of feathers and some black in her tail, and the last looks fairly fancy. I know I was told what her breed was, but for the life of me, I can't recall. The last two described were particular favorites of their previous rooster, and are still growing back feathers in the saddle area. So far, they have made great progress! My two boys are thoroughly whipped into shape by the darkest barred rock look alike, and leave the girls alone for the most part.
The flocks are next to one another, and I love hearing the lads crow together in the morning. My neighbors haven't complained yet. Probably because I haven't ever reported their loose dogs to animal control. The turkey and the hen are a bit farther away, but I can't physically move their pen by myself. The plan was to have a couple turkeys, and some chickens. But sick chicks from the feed store left me with only one turkey. For awhile, I thought the turkey was not going to make it, either. But with advice from a very decent vet who was one of the first NOT to tell me just to destroy the bird and get a healthy one, the turkey is thriving. She spent many a week in my bathroom being nurses back to health before she was big and strong enough to go out into the real world.
Along with the birds, I also have two very useless "barn cats". Two prissy little things who showed up one day and have refused to stop eating the food I leave out for them. They also believe it is their sacred duty to taste test the feed before letting the chickens eat. Well, before Duke accidentally ran over one of the cats while he was screaming in panic because I accidentally looked at him. He isn't used to people, so loses his little mind if our eyes happen to meet. The cat, while deeply offended, was perfectly fine after being trampled by a silkie. She has been extra cautious about going in that pen with me, though, ever since. They are also my official egg quality control officers. Here's a picture of them telling me the eggs are all bad and need to be sacrificed to the working staff. Short haired cat screaming is Mistress Meows on paper, Underfoot by popular vote. Long haired cat whose paws were in the egg basket is Hissy Fit, or Floppy Cat.
