Hi, I have just joined and am involved in another thread about school stories. But I wanted to say that I have had hens for four years now and dont regret a single minute. They are lovely sociable creatures and hilarious too. Here is what I hope is a funny story.
For two years I had my two Essex girls - Sharon and Tracey no less. Tracey sadly died in May last year (I was heartbroken and cried for a week, mad or what?) and I did not know what to do. Keep Sharon on her own, risking that she might pine, or try and rehome her? I could not consider anything else due to decreasing mobility issues. So I went down the rehoming route. The first chap I asked said he would not add a single hen to his flock of two as she would be pretty much eaten alive. I then phoned a local refuge who said they would be delighted to have her but at my request sent over some photos. The place was very off putting - rough and tumble, (hens love that of course) but very shabby and unappealing. My husband, who is very practical took one look and said 'I'm sorry, our Sharon (yes, OUR SHARON) is not going to a place like that!' I creased up. It was like we were vetting future boarding schools like Roedean for a daughter. (We turned out to have done the right thing because apparently a week later a fox got in there and killed all 15 hens).
Third port of call was a lovely lady who worked in a nearby garden centre who I knew had hens and rehomed. Would she have my Sharon? I asked. She was hesitant. 'The thing is', she said, 'my lot are positively feral. Not sure she would survive'. Then she had an idea. 'I have got a lovely big coop on the far side of the field though, but there's only one in there...and he's a cockerel'. 'What?' I said. 'No other hens in there?' 'Nope', she replied. Words with husband again and we decided that there was no way we could let our virginal Sharon in with a cockerel - she'd never seen one in her life, let alone had the experience. 'Just think, I said to him. 'She'll be raped several times a day. I cant have that for our lovely gentle Sharon.'. My husband wasn't sure. 'She might enjoy it', he replied, but I was not persuaded.
So at the end of the day I went on the hunt for another hen, found little Stacey a few miles away and brought her back here. They bickered (of course) for about two weeks but are now, after a few months, the very best of friends. She is a dear little thing, lays a beautiful brown egg every day (and so far all this winter) and I do not regret one minute having got her. I might think of a third one this spring but still weighing up. They really are lovely. When troubles strike, I go and feed them, clean out the house, have a long chat with them about the world and all is suddenly well again. Highly recommended.