Nicola and Steve

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.

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.

Carol, UK

My hubby always wanted chickens, so when we were in a position to do so, we got 6 cuckoo Marans hens and a cockerel. They were allowed free rein in the garden, and my flatcoated retriever, Moss, got used to them strolling around and often sat surrounded by chooks. Our first brood failed (too dry in the coop for the eggs) but learning from our experience, we hatched (or rather Eglantine did!) a second brood of delightful fluffy chicks. When they were out and about in the garden, it became too much for Moss, my dog. He hated to see them running away from Mum, and would go and pick them up in his soft mouth and put them back in the coop or bring them to us.. completely unscathed. They had to be kept in order! Eglantine wasn't very impressed, but Moss felt it was his duty to be co-mum

Eileen Nicholson

My story is only from about three weeks ago.

I was in the garden, cleaning the coop and run, and the dogs and the chooks were just bumbling about the garden.

After a while, I realized that not only had no one tripped me up for a while, but that it had gone awfully quiet. Looked about - not a hair or a feather anywhere! I fair panicked, thinking they'd escaped some how so ran indoors, checking the undergrowth and bushes on the way, and saw I'd left the backdoor open.

The chooks often steal my dogs' dinners, if they can sneak in so I headed for the kitchen. No dogs, no chooks.

Was about to proper panic and headed for the stairs to wake my OH up (he's a night-worker) to panic him too, when as I passed the living room I heard a 'bok'.

Popped my head round the door and there are the two dogs, sitting comfortably, one either end of the couch and my three Ladies sitting in the middle WATCHING TV!

Oh, I SO wish I was a modern techie person with the mobile always to hand, but I'm not - it was on charge in the kitchen...