Anne Cooper

I was brought up in a village in the North East of England. It wasn't one of those idyllic chocolate box villages; it was a bit more rustic and rough around the edges than that. But what we were brought up with were allotments. With allotments come the desire to grow great produce and also, for some, rear poultry and, especially during the war, pigs. My granddad was an allotment man. In his day he reared chickens as well as the community pig but this was before I was born or can remember.

Having this history, over the years I developed a desire to have some hens of my own. Without really noticing I have reached middle age and we have a garden with enough space so, almost without my seeing it, it had become possible. So, I decided that for my 50th Birthday I wanted some hens.

My family rose to the challenge and my 50th Birthday gift was a chicken coop. I adopted 4 ex-battery hens from the British Hen Welface Trust who run a resue scheme. http://www.bhwt.org.uk/ The four girls, named after my mother-in-law and her best friends (I'm not sure if she was flattered or shocked), arrived in July 2013. Dorothy (boss hen), Jean, Hazel and Marion arrived into our lives looking a bit sad with few feathers. My love affair with hens had begun.

Hazel hen was in the worst state when she arrived. No bum feathers at all! Looking after hens for the first time was slightly scary. While I was young we have every pet imaginable but we never had birds, although I vaguely remember Granddad having pigeons, like many men in the North East of his generation. I had never had anything to do with them and I had never even picked up a bird. Gradually, over the weeks and months that followed we became accustomed to each other - I gained confidence and they grew used to me. I love them. I love the way they talk to each other, dig for grubs and have their dust baths. The first time I saw them having a dust bath, in the soft soil in the sunshine it made me laugh out loud. Their joy was palpable. I guess they had probably never had the chance to do that before in their short lives. Fresh sweetcorn was their treat and they would fight over the cobs picking them up and trying to take them away from each other - they made me laugh a lot!

Sadly hens who have been reared in battery farms do not have a good start. We did well for a while with great advice from some of my Twitter pals when I wasn't sure. Rob and Sarah (you know who you are) and my friend Fiona acted as mentors and helped me get the girls to good health. But 3 of the girls have since then died leaving me with a solitary hen - Jean - all alone.

We then faced a dilemma.

I know hens are flock creatures, they dislike being alone and thrive best in social structures. Having said that I was worried about the issue of introducing new hens to Jean, who is by now over 3 and by most hen standards a reasonably old lady. What should we do? I couldn't do it. She started to look sadder and sadder after Dorothy Hen died. Christmas came and went. The New Year emerged and I decided we needed 2 more hens.

Getting more ex-battery hens isn't always easy as the collection days are sporadic. I decided that I would go to a local farm and buy 2 more hens. We went all prepared and ready to bring home the new ladies. At the farm we met the 'poultry man' who was great but he advised us that 2 young hens with Jean was not a great idea and his suggestion was that a companion for Jean could be a duck! So that's what happened. We bought and brought home Jemima Duck.

It is a joy to watch Jean Hen and Jemima Duck together. Companionship is important. Sometimes unexpected friends emerge and watching these two waddle around the garden is fun and heart- warming. Jean Hen has never looked better and I feel sure is the boss in the new relationship! I am hoping their companionship will last many years - I know that I love watching them both and we are expecting lovely duck eggs soon too :)

Sarah Clarke

Nicola and Steve

Julie Smith

It started when I was in plaster I'd had to give up a job I loved and couldn't ride my horses - it was the 3rd op out of 6 so far. I have osteoarthritis in both hands and wrists and have had them partly and fully fused.

We live in the country my daughter works while studying at a free-range egg farm, she was banned from taking anymore hens home who were injured to her boyfriends place. She fetched me one hen, we called her Hettie she was in a poor state I actually took her to the vet for antibiotic but sadly she died. My daughter calls it Hettie hospital.

I now have about 45 not all Hetties I also breed and show vorwerks have a few runner ducks. I still take in the Hetties and have a coop of limpy hens that have come with either deformities from old breaks or have new ones I splint until healed. From peck injuries to nasty open wounds their ability to heal once separate and treated is astounding. I rehome the fully recovered that can go back with other hens. It's time consuming but rewarding I remember my famous last words after finding out my daughter had been banned from having anymore hens. No way, don't ask we're not having any chickens here, lol.

Donna Girling

My husband was offered a cockerel in the pub one day, and agreed to have it. I was not happy. The person he got the cockerel from also gave him 2 orpington. We had a small coop and nothing else, no food, bedding, nothing. We currently have 10 chickens, 9 ex batts and one of the original orps and have worked our way up to a run and living enclosure that would easily house 20 or more. They are my babies, I love them and hubby, who started it all, isn't really interested at all.

Emma Butcher

My chickens keep me sane and have helped me through really tough times.....
I never realised that these funny little creatures could have such a therapeutic affect on me.

After suffering a massive pulmanary embolism to both lungs which resulted in my heart failing last August I was, needless to say at the age of 34... gutted!! But after a long stint in hospital my chickens and ducks even kept the girls on the ward smiling!! I amused them with tales of my Drake that fancies my chihuahua and my Poland cockerel that looks like Rod Stewart! My tales kept all of them smiling and earned me the name chicken Mad Emm.

Once I was allowed home from hospital and reunited with my family I could not wait to waddle outside to see my girls, and was greeted by my seven large fowl running at top speed down the garden to greet me (my clumsy exchequer leghorn stumbling as usual).

My cup of tea in a comfy outside chair was the highlight of my day as i could see my poultry and tell them my worries without feeling guilty for alarming them. Even now the girls i've kept in touch with still ask me how my birds are.

Although i am unwell again now due to a relapse i know my girls are there as a release and escape if needed!! They bring joy and companionship to people who really need it so never discount poultry as a wonderful pet and hobby.

Paul Stubbs

Sarah Christine

My fist encounter with chickens was when I was a child. I used to stay on my granny's farm, and being the only child there, hadn't any one to play with. When the dog got tired of me dressing him up, I used to go into the hen house and play 'school' with the hens. I was the teacher and they were my students. They'd be sitting up on the nest boxes and I'd sit across from them with some books and a pen and teach them. Then if one of them moved, I'd put it in the corner because they never asked permission to leave their seat. Lol....

So fast forward 18 years, my boyfriend and I moved into a house in the country. The previous tenants kept chickens and intentionality left one behind because they 'couldn't catch her' apparently. 'Don't worry about her, the fox will get her' is what I was told when I questioned what to do with her. I'm a huge animal lover so that was out of the question. Susie as I named her lived free range in the garden for a few weeks and slept in the bushes. She would come running down the garden like a lion was chasing her in the mornings, fly up on the window sill and tap on it to get her breakfast. Then a close encounter with a neighbours dog, made me build her a secure run and convert a disused rabbit hutch into a house for her. She was quite happy, started laying and was officially my newest pet. Over Xmas, I built her a big new house and extended her run bit. A few weeks later I got her a friend, Doris, the white Sussex. Despite following the recommended introductory procedure, day 1 was bad, day 2 was good and day 3 was like a blood bath. My little innocent Susie had turned into a raging, blood thirsty lunatic. So now, currently one and half weeks of them being separated (although living beside each other so they will more used to eachother) Susie has escaped twice to sleep in the bushes and tries to eat me if she sees me taking her eggs, Doris feathers has started growing back but she has decided it would be safer to act like she's a Duck! But over all I love having my girls, even though I never would have chickens if it wasn't for them leaving Susie behind. Now I'm just hoping and praying the next introduction will go well and they will be friends.

Neil Watson

Patsy Booth

Felicity Anne Hayes

My chicken story started with my husband designing a chicken coup. He works in the timber industry and has always had access to cheaper timber as a result. My son was a carpenter, and together they decided that, after clearing our back garden, which was a mammoth task, they would build the chicken coup. Well, they did that beautifully and even had help with one of my son's friends, who, being in the roofing industry, was able to put a proper corrugated iron roof on it and attached gutters and a down pipe. Then came our first three rescue chickens, Rhonda, Darkie and Honey. We had all three for just over two years and I became very attached to them, although I was nervous about the responsibility at first, and knew absolutely nothing about looking after chickens. Rhonda and Darkie unfortunately and sadly passed away last winter, but Honey has stayed with us and she is a very, very strong chicken, and lays lovely eggs about three times a week. I was going to just keep her on her own, but my son said you have to get more chickens to keep her company. I resisted at first but then, upon returning from a vacation to help my sister move, my husband and I bought two pullets, Bec and Jo, off a breeder. Honey was really bossy at first and caused some grief as she was always picking on the pullets. Bec had a cold but she started to lay eggs every day and has been very resilient. Jo got sick early this year and I took her to the vets and he treated her for chicken bronchitis. Thankfully, she has now recovered fully and she laid her first eggs this week. I am absolutely delighted. Even Bec has stopped her sneezing, so I think all the chickens are now happy and content. I have always liked animals and I really enjoy my new lifestyle with my friendly chickens.

Heather Brown

My love of chickens-- especially bantams started when I was about 8 years old. As a child I used to stay with my Uncle on a farm in Shropshire. His son kept bantams and although he was the same age as me there wasn't anything he didn't know about looking after animals --- I adored him and was absolutely convinced I was going to marry him and be a farmers wife when I grew up! Well that didn't happen but my love of animals stayed with me and when I acquired 2 allotments 4 years ago-- guess what I did. Yip -- got my bantams!!!! Best thing ever -- they have taught me so much and never fail to make me smile.

Jude Butler

My neighbour was selling a chicken coop with or without a beautiful grey bantom I decided due to my fear of birds I would get it a few weeks later I got my beautiful ex batts from my local rescue now I have gotten over my fear of birds so much so I can lift my girls up and love nothing better than being out in there run having a conversation with my 4 girls all different characters and when the weather breaks a new coop and run is being built for me to slip a few more girls in.

Eilene Corcoran

I lost my tiny little flock of four last year to a couple loose dogs, so I had to start over this spring. We raised 13 chicks for ourselves and a couple friends, and would you believe 10 of them turned out to be male? So we were down to one little pullet for us, and a couple for the friends. We found a woman advertising an easter egger on a local poultry group, so we arranged to meet her in a parking lot of a local business. She pulled up, grabs this little girl out of a cage, and hands her to me... I swear, she had exactly three tail feathers, bald spots, just a sad looking bird. My husband said... are you seriously going to take her? Look at her! I said... yes, absolutely... I have to get her away from them! So, for $15, I got the saddest little chicken in the world. She lays a beautiful blue egg nearly every day, and though she is still sort of a ragamuffin, she's feathered out quite nicely. We call her Lucy, the Junkyard Chicken! She has more personality in her little foot than most other birds! Love my little Lucy.

Su Norris

My chicken story is when I started caring for my elderly mum I needed a realise for me and hubby some where we could do our thing our hobby. Being tied to the house and caring we need a release started with 7 chickens 4 years ago still have 6 of the original ones plus the daughter of the one we lost, come Saturday we will have 61 a wonderful mum still with us and a happy family.

Connor Clarke

It all started when I went round my friends house, he blurted out that he had chickens with Afros (silkies) and we had to have a look. Sure enough they did, and that's where I caught the chicken madness...

Over time I hassled my mum enough for her to buy me some barbu duccles. They were the best chickens I ever had. Then I rescued some ex batteries and sizzles, they had the biggest personalities. Summer went by and I ended up hatching (both naturally and artificially), rearing chicks inside and outside, selling the eggs and POL chickens. I'm glad I went round my friends house to see the chooks or I wouldn't have my chickens now

Francesca, 46, Trieste

I live in Trieste, I am not so old (nearly 46) but I lost relatives and friends as well, my best friends are my two ragdoll cat girls and the cat colony. I have loved chickens since my early childhood, when I wanted to have a pet hen, but was not allowed, so had fun in attending the house of my mum's aunt, where there were several hens that ran free. They were kept for eggs, but also as pets and members of the family.

But I meant to tell you about Olga. There is a hen here in the neighbourhood, she is an escapee like in "Chicken Run" the movie, flew away from her original home, and travelled hidden in a workers' bus; then she found an ideal home here - she is loved by the kids at school and all people who meet her, she eats with pigeons, crows and cats, roams around in the day and sleeps on tree tops at night. She is really a character, and makes the day of many people!

Jordan, 17

Kay

Never take their care for granted. Always be aware of illnesses and predators and make sure you can make them as safe as possible! Sometimes you experience deaths and I wonder whether I could prevent them and if I had noticed earlier that they were poorly...  You feel guilt.

Chicken keeping is rewarding if you really want to do it. It takes time, can take a lot of money if you want it too, but the rewards can be immense. I think some people think they don't need to do much but they do need care, again for health reasons and fox attacks etc. If they are pets they should be treated as such.

They take time and need to opened up in the morning and put away at night for their own safety. I am worried that if I ever forgot, not that I have, but if I did something awful would happen. Its all about routine. If I keep to that, the hens like it too, then hopefully everything will be okay.

Annie Green, UK

My hen story is a word of caution. Please don't read this if you are easily upset by the death of a hen.

I had had my hens for about 6 months and had never had any problems from Mr Fox. All three of my girls free ranged in the garden and were 'secure' inside a 6ft high fence. My dog, Stanley, would never let anything in to the garden, not even a strange cat and we had/have cats of our own but he still wouldn't let other cats in.

I would stand and watch my girls digging about and pulling up the weeds and plants and often reminded myself that I really must get a run... one day soon.

On a rather warm sunday afternoon the girls were indeed free ranging and I was out with them pottering around in the garden. Eventually my daughter knocked on the door for a coffee, she lives 6 doors away, and it was nice just to sit and chat together without my beloved grandchildren stealing all the attention. I love them to bits but sometimes you just want a one to one girly chat. So I popped the kettle on and we soon settled down at the kitchen table for our much missed chinwag safe in the knowledge that my girls were being cared for by Stanley. After a few minutes we heard one of the chooks squawk then some kind of banging noise. Both myself and my daughter were out of our seats and into the garden in a flash, closely followed, then overtaken, by Stanley. The banging continued for what seemed like forever and it took us a few minutes for fathom out which direction the banging was coming from. My two other chooks were hiding behind me as quiet as mice.

Me and daughter raced to the bottom of the garden and into the bushes just in time to spot Mr Fox jump over the fence into next doors garden. I swear he had nothing in his mouth and he wasn't alone with my poor chicken long enough to do anything but kill her. We knew she was dead and searched for a very long time to find her body but she was gone. We never found her and we were both heart broken. It was my fault and I will never forgive myself for being so complacent. Now I have 9 chickens and all of them are housed in the biggest run I could fit into my garden. They still free range but only when I can stay out there too. If anyone knocks on my door I ignore them. My girls are far too precious to risk them again.