So yesterday, I bought a box of chicken. How this differs from your average pack of white wings sweet chili tenders is that this box of chicken was much larger, less frozen, moving and occasionally making noises. What can I say, I'm not your average kind of guy.
I loaded the box into the car for an obligatory game of corners. Obligatory, because chickens have no sense in how to deal with motion that is not their own. No matter how carefully you take the bends, at least once you're going to hear them slide across the box, pile up against the wall on one end, then question what just happened: "Bwaaaaaarrk?".
Forty minutes later that ordeal was over for them, but they were faced with a full day of fresh new ordeals. You might not think settling into "The Hilton" would be such a challenge - but these are chickens, and they have their own special kind of difficulties. I opened the box to see three sets of beady eyes looking up at me questioningly. I proceeded to unload chicken.
Having co-existed with an entire flock in a small space for a while, the first priority for these birds was a dust bath. It could have been co-incidence, but Rissole chose to take her bath in the dirt right at the door to the run. The other two were quickly organised to followed suit, digging in the same spot. But after years of chicken keeping I am, of course, suspicious. I've found that one of the few intelligences these birds have is figuring out an escape to the vege patch so-I-can-rip-shit-up, and I know my white tailed friend is there testing her first boundary.
But the true challenge of the day would turn out to be summiting the ladder to the nesting box. The birds, young and inexperienced, left it far too late in the evening for the demanding climb of seven steps. I saw them scuffling around on the bottom steps shortly after sunset (occasionally stepping on each other) and didn't think too much of it until later in the night. I set out with a torch just to make sure things had gone well, only to find Roast had settled down for the night on step six, while Rissole and Barbecue were asleep, tightly squished on step four. I thought about leaving them to finish the ascent after a good night's rest, but then, to much protest, placed them one by one into the nesting box. Two of the birds, being obstinate, settled themselves tightly in the doorway for the night.
This morning I was slightly panicked when after a reasonable sleep in, I came outside to see no chickens. I was only somewhat relieved to find that the chickens were having similar difficulties finding the exit to the nesting box, and were presently sitting squashed on a small corner perch that I've never seen used before by a single chicken, let alone three. Being the patient teacher that I am, I took the nearest chicken's rump in my hand a pushed it gently to the doorway. Roast, unsure of what was going on had her feet planted firmly on the floor, pushing a pile of bedding before her. It took some encouragement (and by that I mean a good deal of pushing) to get her to step through onto the first step of the ladder. As if they finally realised "Heeeey, there's a door there", the other two quickly jumped down and jostled to be the next through, avidly pushing Roast the rest of the way down.
Its clear early on that these are going to be an entertaining bunch.