When Olive became broody I decided if she wanted to be a mother who was I to deny her? I sourced eggs from the same wonderful chicken breeder that Olive and her sisters had come from. My request for six eggs resulted in 10 – just in case some didn’t make it.
I hovered over Olive and her eggs for 20 long days and then the cheeping started. Olive took each new arrival in her stride I greeted each one with wonder and amazement. So far, my fairytale image of raising chicks was on point.
Then I found Twiggy outside the nesting box in the rain, alive but oh so cold. I popped her back under Olive and hoped for the best. The next morning I removed her tiny body, devastated by her passing.
The rain stopped and the chicks thrived. Olive took them on excursions further and further into the garden. The air was filled with the constant cheep of chicks on the move.
The one hot day I noticed Bocconcini had fallen behind and was not looking healthy. I took her inside and gently syringed water into her beak then popped in a box in front of the air conditioner. She perked up within minutes and started cheeping for her mum. She then drank and ate by herself. I was delighted.
[photo of Boc]
After a few hours of trying to keep her contained I returned her to Olive. My anxious checks found her listless and alone in the yard again. I repeated my earlier steps and she rallied once more. I decided to bring everyone inside for the night as the heat was brutal. Olive was not amused at this new arrangement but after a bit of grumbling settled down for the night. Bocconcini nestled in with her siblings.
The next morning we woke to the sound of an angry Olive demanding to be released. I rushed down to let her out and found little Boc’s body in the nest. She just hadn’t been strong enough to make it through the night.Weeks went by and Olive’s brood of five grew and grew. They free ranged during the day and returned to their converted dog crate each evening. After discovering a python in my potting shed, we took extra precautions wrapping the crate in shade cloth.
Then disaster struck. Another python, bigger and bolder than the last, ripped off the shade cloth and slithered through a two-centimetre gap to eat three of the chicks before falling asleep in the straw beside a distraught Olive and her two remaining chicks. My already fractured fairytale was blown apart. The worst part was having to remove the python from the nest and discovering three chick-sized bulges under its shiny skin. Even if had wanted to there was no way it could leave the crate the way it came.Olive soon recovered her composure and calmly continued to raise the last of her brood. She was an amazing first-time mum caring for chicks until they were nine-weeks old. Most hens will begin to separate from their brood at around six-weeks.
I’m still rattled by the reality of life and death that is raising chicks but when Ethel, Olive’s sister became broody who was I to deny her instinct to become a mother…
