All growed up now

Jenga, isn't he gorgeous?

It happened with a blink of an eye. 

One minute Jenga was on Canasta's back with some random fluttering, and then he was off pecking around leaving her and me, a bit stunned. I'd heard chicken sex could be like that. Now, I knew. 

My velociraptors

The Golden Age of the Velociraptors has passed, as I knew it would. Gone are the days when the four of them paraded around fields and gardens together. Jenga discovered sex. And boy does he ever like it.

Within days, he de-flowered Z's four layers who were cloistered in the kitchen garden. The first I knew of his dalliance was my three girls looking very pissed off, in the greenhouse, no Jenga in sight. This led to Boy and I frantically searching for Jenga...to find him strutting around and four knackered hens in the kitchen garden.

The first oeuff!

My girls in the meantime have started laying. A bit small compared to Z's adults, but not bad going for the first efforts. Like hers, massive yolk, small amount of white. Since they started producing, I let them out mid-morning, rather than first thing. I don't want them laying away. Chicks would be a bad idea given the closeness of the genetic material, plus, that's a whole world of hurt right there.

Today, is a proper winter's day. Bright sunshine, frost on the ground. After the week's poor weather I thought everyone would like a quick wander around, so both flocks are out. I let mine out; then fed Z's teeny-boppers in the greenhouse; let her flock out and fed the barn cats.

I haven't seen Z's Cocky and Jenga interact, but given the flocks are mixing, introductions must have been made. There's been no squawking or feathers flung about, so things must have been settled fairly amicably. 

It seems this summer I will be chasing after laying hens. We really don't want a repeat of last year. 

Walking up the drive back to my house, Jenga was hot-footing it over to the main flock. I did my best to coax him back, but he was determined and I figured he'd head over anyway. My girls were still in the garden pecking about. I got inside and glanced over to see Jenga chasing one of Z's hens. I shucked my boots off, peeled off my coat, walk back into the front room and looked outside.

It took me a few moments to stop laughing.

My girls rounded Jenga up as effectively as riot police herding a dissident, and marched him off into the kitchen garden!

He might wear the trousers in that relationship, but they choose the colour.