Holly’s Lasting Impression

May 15, 2024

Chickens are assholes. Don’t judge me too harshly: if you’ve ever met me, then you’ll know that I love all the animals - even wasps. But that does not change the fact that chickens are assholes.

Our first batch of rescue chickens were three Rhode Island Reds, and we decided to name them after computer scientists. They were Ada (Lovelace), Joan (Clarke) and Grace (Hopper). Ada was head of the pecking order, a very real dynamic, and was affectionately known as Ada the asshole. She was fierce and formidable, and had more personality than I could ever hope to have.

We are now onto our second flock of chickens: Bennie and Florie (eggs Benedict and Florentine) are Blackrocks, and Holly (Hollandaise sauce) was a White Leghorn. They are free to roam, eating slugs, grass and scraps, and they’re more than happy to go to their coop at bedtime.

Now Bennie and Florie have their own stories, but Holly was a funny wee thing. She was always a little smaller than Bennie and Florie, and was lowest in the pecking order, likely due to being a different breed.

Bennie and Florie had been laying for months, and still nothing from Holly, who repeatedly kicked all the straw out of the nesting tray. We didn’t want to put pressure on her, but I was starting to get concerned, especially since she occasionally walked like she needed to lay - perhaps she was eggbound, maybe we weren’t feeding her a nutritionally dense diet, or what if she just wasn’t absorbing the nutrients the way she should be?

One day, we did get an egg from her. We were so excited, and shared it that night with our dinner. But days went by and she didn’t lay any more for us. We weren’t too concerned, after all she’s quite small, until days turned into a week, and a week to a fortnight. Unfortunately, one Sunday not long ago, we woke up and went outside to open the pen, only to find white feathers everywhere. Holly had flown out of the pen in the early hours of the morning, and seemingly been intercepted by a fox.

We were gutted. This got a little easier to swallow with time.

Well, last week db and I had a day free to do all the jobs we’d been putting off, or too busy to do for weeks.

We have two solar panels raised at a 45 degree angle, and two at a 20 degree angle. The cats love to snuggle up and have naps under the 20 degree panels, especially on sunny days, where it must hit over 25 degrees celsius. It was time to move them into better positions due to the longer days. Upon lifting one of these panels, we found 11 white eggs! A parting gift from Holly. Suddenly everything made sense. She was escaping in the wee hours of the morning to go and lay somewhere safe, when Bennie and Florie were asleep. I like to think she was leaving them with her cat siblings, knowing they’d be looked after.

(aj)