Last Sunday, as we ate lunch in the walled garden, there was the most almighty rumpus. In the little coop Figgy was being beaten up by a snow white brother or sister sporting a little red Mohican. It was a very vicious attack so I extracted Figgy quickly.
She/he was terrified but soon relaxed in the 8yo's arms.
After a reasonable time had passed we tried to put Figgy back into the coop but the same thing happened and little Figgy desperately flapped to be let out into the safety of a sproglet's embrace. I suggested we might call the little aggressor Malfoy but that seemed to upset the 8yo even more.
'She's called Snowdrop and I love her too, even if she is mean...!'
I backed off.
It was very fortunate that the punch-up happened on a Sunday and that I am married to Super-D.I.Y.man: [Hubby never used to be Mr. D.I.Y. but The Larches forces roles on a person.....personally I thought that having trained the sprogs out of nappies I would never have to handle poo again - it's almost my daily activity here at The Larches!]
Anyhoo, hubby was fantastic. He divided the coop into two, luckily there was already a back door and a front door so he divided the coop inside diagonally and then he made a new run........ all with minimal swearing. Now on one side of the coop lives Mummy, Figgy and two black chicks and on the other side
Who'd have thought chickens were so aggressive and needy.