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| My happy ex-battery hens today |
Having grown up on a farm where we always had an abundance of fresh eggs, I'd been thinking about making room for a few hens in my garden for some time.
I was really hankering after a few pretty little Silkies (a fluffy Asian breed), but I'd heard about a charitable organisation that re-homes battery hens and decided to find out more.
The British Hen Welfare Trust (formerly the Battery Hen Welfare Trust) has a number of co-ordinators nationwide, all volunteers. Each year they re-home around 60,000 battery hens that would otherwise be destined for the slaughterhouse. Hens can easily live eight to ten years, yet battery hens are considered 'spent' at a year to 18 months old. This is despite the fact that they will continue to lay eggs for a number of years, albeit at a diminishing rate.
My conscience pricked, I contacted my nearest co-ordinator and requested four hens. The waiting list for hens from the next 'rescue' was already full, so my details were added to the waiting list for a future rescue mission and I was told I'd receive an email nearer the time confirming when we'd be able to collect our hens.
Preparing for the arrival of our hens
In the meantime, we converted a redundant dog run and kennel into suitably secure accommodation - our Labrador and German Shepherd are more likely to be found lounging on the rug in front of the stove. We put down a layer of deep bark chippings to give the hens something to root around in, although we've since given them the run of a large part of the garden during the day so now just tend to put straw down in the converted dog run and lock them in there each night. We also bought a bag of feed; the British Hen Welfare Trust recommends ex-battery crumbs, which are designed to give the hens all the nutrients they need.
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| Our hens enjoy a free range life these days, although they were reluctant to venture out during the recent snow! |
A few weeks later, we received an email and headed down to a farm in Lincolnshire with a large cardboard box with air vents in the side. Collections usually take place at specified times and, although we'd arrived early, a lengthy queue was already forming. It was only then that we became aware of the full scale of the operation; thousands of hens were due to be collected that day.
We'd been warned that battery hens rarely appear as fit as their free range counterparts and I was a little concerned about what to expect. However, we were told that any sick or injured hens would end their days pottering about the co-ordinator's farm.
I was pleasantly surprised when I saw our four hens for the first time. Although a few feathers had been pecked out here and there (a common problem among battery hens caused largely by boredom) and their combs were a little pale and floppy due to the lack of sunlight, they didn't look as bad as I'd feared.
Once we got our girls home we released them into their secure run and left them to settle down. That evening, as dusk fell, all four hens huddled together on the ground, apparently unaware that they were supposed to roost in their coop. Concerned that they would catch a chill, we gave them a helping hand.
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| Me feeding cucumber to Carrie, my favourite hen |
A diary of our hens' first five days of freedom
Day one: We awoke to the sound of hens contentedly clucking outside. They'd worked out how to climb down the little ramp from their coop and, during the course of that first day, they gave us three eggs. One had been laid on the ground - not surprising given that they would have been used to depositing their eggs on the floor of their cages - but two were actually nestling in the boxes.
The hens didn't have a huge amount of energy and stayed close together for much of the time, but it was encouraging to see that their urge to scratch among the bark chippings quickly returned. On quite a few occasions I caught them dozing in the sunshine, soaking up the rays as if recharging their batteries.
Day two: The transformation was astonishing. The hens had decided to turn their attention to the important business of creating a pecking order within the group. The smallest hen with the least feathers appeared to be at the bottom of the hierarchy, and was hassled and harried by the two most dominant hens. She sought sanctuary under the chicken coop and we became a little concerned for. I quickly referred to Hens in the garden, eggs in the kitchen, a fantastic little book that a good friend bought for me and was reassured to learn that this was all part of the natural process. Two more eggs resulted, despite the bickering!
Day three: There was much less squabbling, but it was evident that the largest of the hens had cemented her position as alpha female. She spent much of the day with her second in command, while the two remaining hens seemed to accept their more lowly status. We began introducing fruit and vegetable scraps to their diet. Once again, the smallest hen needed help making it into the coop at night, but we got two more eggs!
Day four: We had a visit from the children of some friends of ours. Right on cue, the girls produced two perfect eggs for them to collect. I made the mistake of wearing sandals when I went to feed the hens and they seemed to think that the nail polish on my toes was food; they were definitely becoming more lively! I also noticed that their combs were beginning to turn pinky-red already; it was amazing the difference a few days outdoors had made. For the first time, all four hens were safely tucked up inside the coop at dusk.
Day five: It rained and my fair-weather, feathered friends produced just one egg between them for the first time since their arrival, Still, that took the tally to ten - not bad in less than a week!
If you'd like to find out more about re-homing battery hens, visit the British Hen Welfare Trust website at www.bhwt.org.uk
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