On the third day of Christmas


As I continue my theme of the Twelve Days of Christmas, according to the song, it’s three French hens.
We actually had five to start with, though I doubt if Scraggy or any of the others could speak French.

We lost one shortly after arrival, but had four for well over a year which kept us well in eggs, the surplus of which I sold using the proceeds towards their keep.
We then lost another, leaving us a happy little band of three for almost another year.
We read that chickens can get quite nasty towards newcomers, and had visions of having only one chicken left which we would have to rehome.
Luckily, we knew someone who had a lonely one-eyed rooster so we loaded up the coop and our remaining three girls and retired them to a small holding.
The rooster was ousted out of his hut, but didn’t…

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