The Continuing Adventures of Myfanwy the Chicken

I have been reporting a lot of bad news on the chicken front, so I thought I would catch you all up on the good news stories.

Do you remember Myfanwy the egg-eating hen? As Charles's last remaining heir (I let a friend have her two sisters and a fox got them both...sorry, a bit more bad news I forgot to tell you about) I was very fond of her. As a egg-eater, I was very annoyed with her. My attempts to reform her failed. I found her a home but it fell through. This turned out to be a bonus as the home was with her two (recently departed) sisters and their vulpine visitor.

We finally made the hard choice to put her in the pheasant pen in the woods. I was sat with her on my lap in the front seat of Mike's truck. As we left our driveway I had a great idea. The Manor house flock was down to only a few cockerels after repeated fox attacks (I think we have taken care of the culprits now). No hens. No eggs. What did we have to lose by making Myfanwy a "gift" to Lord and Lady S? At worst she would wander down the drive and back home to us, and we'd have to go back to plan A. At best, the Manor house cockerels would have company, and maybe even the odd egg.

It has been a complete success. Myfanwy immediately took up with a little Cochin cockerel. The housekeeper tells me they are inseparable. As a bossy hen, she's leading him rather than the other way around, but they both seem content with the arrangement.

Doesn't she look happy, more purposeful? Do you remember the hen with the rolling pin from the Foghorn Leghorn cartoons? That's Myfanwy. She just needs the straw hat with the flower to complete the picture.

I just walked down to the house to deliver some fresh eggs, and Myfanwy was having her picture taken by tourists-

Myfanwy now lives in this garden -

It's a step up from our front yard. No wonder she decided to stay. All the men to herself, a fancy garden and the adoration of tourists all summer. She's must feel like a celebrity (or is that a celebirdy?)

And to top it off, she's stopped eating eggs. Can you believe it? The housekeeper says she picks up an egg most days.

The ducklings I hatched for Lady S are happily reunited with their parents. The family group spends most of their day waddling around the churchyard attached to the manor, adding ambiance to the place. The ducklings are splashed black and white, a mix of their parents -

I have a small hatch due out on Sunday, so maybe there will be more good news - the start of a small flock of Buff Orpingtons. I have sourced a handful of Barbu D'Uccle eggs and I will set them next week.

The last bit of good news is a 'blowing my own trumpet' announcement: I administered the last dose of injectable wormer to the sheep last week All.By.Myself. No accidents, no jabbing my own hand. I penned them, caught them, rolled them and jabbed them. And they're still alive. Later my husband surprised me with a gift he had made for me -

My very own shepherd's crook. We still have quite a few working blacksmiths in England and Mike found an old pattern and had the smith make it for me. It's used to hook the back leg of a sheep and hold it. The girls are going to have to endure me practising yet another technique on them.

I've just registered my flock with the AHO (Animal Health) as required by our government. Once I receive my flock number I will be an official sheep keeper. I'm about to register with the Polled Dorset Sheep Breeder's Association and I have to pick a prefix, as a name for my flock. I've chosen Yankee. The Yankee Flock of Polled Dorset. I think it suits us both.