The Trouble Makers

I’m sorry to start on a sad note but, last weekend, devastation hit our coup. Our slightly special yet superb Silkie Mr Fantastic passed away. After we had overcome the emotional upset we realised we had a somewhat larger problem on our hands. In our tendency to humanise the birds we explained it away as mourning but a few moments later it was clear – the birds had gone mad!

Whether it was the loss of a friend, a glitch in the pecking order or even the unseasonable sunshine we shall never know – either way the birds appeared to be killing each other. Oscar had a bloody beak, Fahita was crying in the corner and the general mist of feathers in the air sent a chill down my spine. We had found ourselves in the middle of a feather-pecking spree.

I took my usual solution to everything approach and hit the net. I was told to tar the injured birds, cover them all with anti-peck spray, install a pecker block and fit an unusual device to their beaks known as bumper bits. All very well for those with easy access to a shed of supplies.

Since I began my obsession with all that is feathery, I have acquired a strong network of poultry fanatics who, in my hour of need, clamoured together. Other local owners sprang out of the woodwork, as if by magic, bumper bits in hand. After a short trip over the boarder into Romford in Essex and a crash course in the difficulties of fitting said bumper bits, my birds slowly returned to normal.

Although the experience was truly traumatic, I was strangely left with a warm and fuzzy feeling. When you enter the world of all things chicken, you are also welcomed into a new community of help and support. Urban farmers can sometimes feel isolated but this need not be the case when a keyboard is on hand. I only hope I can one day return the favour to a fellow poultry fancier in need.

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