May 9, today, is a Thursday. Back in 2009 it fell on a Saturday.  I remember it clearly because it’s my birthday and back then we were trying to find somewhere to have lunch, and with limited success. It seemed we were driving around the Portuguese countryside for ages before we eventually found a place. We had been looking for somewhere to live, and again with limited success. For a variety of reasons we decided to abandon the idea. However, we had already booked the following Monday with an estate agent so thought we might as well look at the properties that had been picked for us. The rest, as they say, is history. Yes, it was ten years ago we found Casa Azul. So a warning that for many of the posts to come we will be comparing then with now – and what a difference!

But this post is about today, and the saga with the hens. It started with the visit from Foxy, three ‘roasties’ were killed one night earlier in the year (it had burrowed its way into the old pig pen where they sleep) and a realisation that the two chicken coops we have for the hens were past it. The first one was given to us by my dad in 2010 and then a second one we got in 2011.  For me, having chickens was one of the very special things about living here.

Already roofs and doors have been replaced, they really are rather rickety. So big project for Richard was to build a bigger and more secure place. Somewhere for Skittle and his harem to be safe and sound, and also one that could be walked into – easier for cleaning and collecting the eggs.

But then alas, at the beginning of April, only a few short weeks after getting Cagney and Lacey, Foxy came in the night and somehow opened the metal cage door (a flap which is pulled outwards), squeezed into the cage and tore open the door to the actual coop. It took Cagney away. We were just devastated, and it was awful telling the nice people who had entrusted them to us (in fact who gave us Skittle as an egg too).

The others were in the second coop, they’re too small to have more than four hens in and Skittle is enormous now! So it was full speed ahead for Richard to continue what has become known as the pallet palace:

Lots of sunny days in April meant he could crack on at top speed. We had a few interesting ‘discussions’ doing it but it’s marvellous. There’s also a side flap which can be opened to let some fresh air in if need be. The caged area has lots of perches and the food and water hangs from the roof so everything is well protected. The water from the roof is also being collected, just in a large black bucket for now, but we’ll get a proper system set up for that. The plum tree, grown up since we have been here, will also give extra shade once the heat of summer comes.

Skittle was delighted with his new home and the hens seemed pleased too. The only thing now was to get more hens. Skittle had Rocky, Hattie and Lacey, but three hens for an amorous cock is not enough 😉 So we went to the market and got three more: Preta, Mo (after Salah of course) and Hazelnut. Photos to follow. We went to bed feeling chuffed; the three new hens were settled in the old coop nearby where they could see and be seen by the others, ready to be let once they were sort of used to each other. But come the second night, Rocky was nowhere to be found. It was too early for Foxy to come, and there were no feathers anywhere. Plus Skittle would have made a real fuss. For some reason the pop-hole (the little flap door that leads into the coop) had also fallen down. We had almost given up looking for her when she made a little noise; she was hiding under the plastic wrapping that protects the food bucket. We thought no more, put her away and locked everyone up.

The next morning it was clear what had happened. Skittle and Rocky must have had some sort of scuffle, the pop-hole had fallen down and, alarmingly, cut Rocky very badly on the back of the head. She had been hiding for two reasons. Skittle, when in full love mode, bites the back of the hens’ necks (they don’t seem very keen about it at all it has to be said). Plus other hens are notorious for bothering those with wounds. We put Rocky in the second old coop, which is just in a small field with grass next door, because she seemed a little frightened of Skittle. And then she got out of the field, for some bizarre reason, and was found cowering and covered in blood. Oh dear. So the latest is that Skittle is with 5 ladies, who are sort of getting on well together now (Lacey pleased she is no longer bottom of the pecking order) and Rocky remains in her own coop and area. They can see each other through the fence so she’s not totally isolated but there’s no way she can return to the others until she’s completely healed. Hens, eh? Who’d have ’em?

PS These are our first four hens with the first coop in 2010. It’s incredible to think that this is the same field, the trees and hedgerows have grown up so much. They were the only batch that were always inquisitive and flying out. I don’t remember another lot standing on the coop as these lot did, or trying to roost in the overhanging walnut tree.