Chicken Run (The Great Escape)

On Saturday 6th January, things could have gone either one of two ways for me.

Early in the morning I was taken from the tiny cage which had been my home for the first and what so nearly was the last year of my life.

I could have gone with the majority of my companions, on a ride that would have ended in me being electrocuted and then my body processed into soup, stock cubes, baby food or going to the restaurant trade. (Usually Chinese or Indian.)

Not all hens are unconscious when they go to the second stage of processing.

I, with nearly 300 others were packed into crates, even smaller than the cage I’d lived in. We were all put into the back of a large estate car and driven from Leicestershire to Worcestershire.

We didn’t know it at the time but we’d been rescued by

At the end of our journey we were taken to an open henhouse and left to try to find our feet and get used to having the freedom to move about. For the first time we were able to flap our wings.

During my year as a Layer, I stood in a cage that allowed little movement, the mesh floor sloped and our claws grew too long, as there was nothing to wear them down on. We adopted a sort of crouching position, so when released onto a solid, flat floor, we find it very difficult to walk and apart from that we are very weak.

While we spend our time in these cages we become very bored and so we peck the feathers of whoever is alongside us. I managed to keep my right side away from her next door to a certain extent but the one on my left was a vicious pecker and that is why my left side is nearly bald.

This is my left side. You can see I'm sort of hunched down on my feet as I haven't got the hang of standing up straight yet.

After a few hours of adjusting to this new place, people came to collect some of the other girls, until there were only about 30 of us left.

Then this lady came and she said she wanted me. To be honest, I didn’t think anyone would want me as I was the least feathered of the ones remaining. Still, there’s no accounting for taste. I was put in an old cat basket and went for yet another drive. I call the lady The Big Mother.

It was getting near to sunset when we arrived at my new home, I could see there was a big garden, with lots of trees and bushes to go pecking under. It looked like chicken heaven to me.

But I wasn’t going to be allowed to go there yet, I was put in a new cage but this one is so much bigger than my old one. It has a ramp that leads upstairs to my bedroom and there is an en suite laying box lined with paper and wood shavings. Can you imagine such luxury?

Downstairs, which is sheltered from the bad weather, but open to the air, is an area about 6 feet by four, covered with bark chippings and allows me plenty of room to run about, which I need, as I have found that this chicken paradise also contains ABIGAIL! The Demon Pecker. This bird has a real attitude problem and doesn’t seem to keen on sharing her home with me. The Big Mother banged a stick on the side of the run and Abigail went off in a sulk up to bed. I was put to bed, as I didn’t know how to walk up the ramp.

Abigail got up and went downstairs. I laid an egg. The Big Mother seemed very pleased with this egg. Couldn’t see what the fuss was about myself. It’s what I do. Even sick and unhappy hens lay eggs. It’s not unusual for  battery hens to lay egs on the dead bodies of there companions, or, for eggs to roll down the slope and collect against the rotting corpses of dead hens. These eggs will still find their way into your supermarkets.

Well The Big Mother thought I should go downstairs and get some food and water, so she opened the side of the bedroom and gently encouraged me down the slope. Abigail took no notice of me for a few minutes and then she started again. TBM banged a stick on the side, which deterred her and after a few bangs, Abigail took herself off to her bedroom again. The trouble was, I didn’t know how to eat and drink from the dispensers I have here and to be honest I was getting weaker.

TBM realised this was a problem and so got me out and took me into her house. The back door opens into the dining room and it has the sort of floor that you can mop clean (you can see it in the photo above), so I was given the cat basket to hide in, some newspapers on the floor and my own bowls. But still I didn’t know what to do and TBM eventually thought some lessons were needed.

Now I’m the first to admit, I am a bit stupid and didn’t realise TBM was trying to help, so when she picked me up, to try to syringe some water into my beak, I kicked up a hell of a fuss, flapped like crazy and managed to escape her arms. This was a very silly thing to do as TBM is quite tall and chickens don’t fly. In my hasty descent to the dining table, I managed to break off most of the back claw on one foot. This had the effect of sending TBM into a worse flap than I was in, as now I was dripping blood around the place.

The necessary re-hydration was forgotten as the new emergency had to be dealt with. An Elastoplast was found and bound tightly around my back toe and the stump of claw. That did the trick and then somewhat chastened by my stupidity, I allowed TBM to squirt water down my throat. Oh that was good, I knew I wanted some but didn’t know how to deal with getting it. Then TBM filled a tall glass right to the very top and with my wings gently restrained under her left arm, she oh so gently bent my neck down so that my beak dipped into the water. She held it there for a few seconds and then let my head back up. I found my beak was full of water and so quickly swallowed it. We repeated that exercise a few times and then I was put on the floor, by the food bowl to see how I got on with that.

What TBM didn’t know was, I ‘m not used to Layer Pellets and Corn. I’m used to Mash. So I had to be educated in my new food. Again I got tucked under her arm and pellets and corn were slipped into my beak. I wasn’t at all cooperative but a reasonable amount was inserted and then I was put to bed.

Laid another egg in the laying box and was taken straight to the dining room, where I was given my breakfast. TBM had been researching on the Internet Thingy and found I was used to Mash. So, she put some pellets and corn into her grinder and made a very acceptable version of Mash, which I was able to tuck into.

Then I forgot how to drink from a bowl, so later I wouldn’t eat either. By mid afternoon TBM was getting concerned again and a crash course on drinking was embarked upon.

I was given a very wide bowl, full to the top and I was made to stand alongside it and TBM gently pushed my head down into it. Then she let go. Like the day before, I found my beak was full of water. After four or five goes, I was left to my own devices and I spent the next few minutes guzzling down as much as I could.

Later in the afternoon Iwas put in the run with Abigail, who had a few pecks and then went to bed up the ramp. I still haven’t got that worked out yet, so I had to be hoiked out of the run with the yard broom and put to bed through the laying box. I could have stayed there but I chose to go through to the bedroom and inched my way down the roost to stand alongside Abigail, so we could keep each other warm.

I was put in the dining room again. When it became obvious I wasn’t coming down on my own The Big Daddy made me go down the ramp but Abigail was being evil again, so I had to go into the dining room and I laid an egg between the dresser and the chest of drawers. I wasn’t happy about that, so I pecked a hole in the end of it.

I’m getting the hang of feeding myself properly now.

Found that if I squat down I can get under the dresser, this did not please TBM and so the cats bean bag beds have been pushed into the gap to prevent me doing that again.

Had to be put to bed.

Didn’t lay an egg today. Three in a row is pretty good, so I’m having a rest now. Don’t want them thinking I can do that every day!

In the afternoon I was put in with Abigail, who is still the peck -monster and I found I could put my head under the food hopper, to stop her pecking my comb, which at the moment is large and floppy, as the house I used to live in was too warm. We use our combs to lose body heat. Now I am spending more time out doors my comb will get smaller and tight and a deeper red colour.

I’m still quite weak but as soon as I get my strength up I will give Abigail her just desserts, probably with interest!

TBD felt I needed rescuing from Abigail again, so he brought me in while TBM was still at school.

I’m walking about much more now but this has produced a slight limp. When TBM came home she was very concerned about this and so insisted on picking me up and examining my feet and legs. She couldn’t see anything wrong but I could have told her, my broken back claw isn’t long enough to protect the fleshy part of my toe when I walk and it is getting pinched between the stub of claw and the floor. It should soon grow enough to stop this happening and it’s only really a problem when I’m on the hard, slippery dining room floor.

Didn’t lay an egg again today. I think I’ll keep them guessing.

Discovered the bowl of Iams Cat Food, I really like that, I managed to gulp down quite a few pellets before I was spotted.

Got put to bed again but I am getting stronger and I may get the hang of going up the ramp soon.

TBM would put more pictures on but AOL keeps giving her a Gateway Timeout message!