"I'll rattle my bag!"

A "Google" photo of Gwaenysgor Pond

Without his motorbike, Chris needs to be ferried to Prestatyn most mornings in order to catch the early "University" train. At 6.30am he is bright as the proverbial f*cking button ( a regular Doris Day in fact) where I have the look and temperament of  Atillla The Hun crossed with Lord Voldemort.

God help anyone crossing me at this, the most vulnerable part of the day....and even Chris is now well versed in the art of not trying to engage me in ANY conversation at a time when not even my cockerels are properly awake.

To get home from Prestatyn, I have to drive up a 1 in 4 hill  to a height of 600 feet, pass through the village of Gwaenysgor and then negotiate a series of tiny country roads to our village. This I do, oblivious to most things around me, however this morning as I drove down towards Gwaenysgor pond (above) I caught sight of a fox trotting with some purpose across the road and around the back of the pond itself.

I slowed the car and in a second realized where he was going, for grazing peacefully on the far side of the pond were four beautiful white farm geese.

I stopped the car (effectively blocking the single track road), got out and at the side of the pond started to shout in the direction of where I last saw the fox.

Now, what the hell DO you shout in this sort of situation "Run???" "Help?" "Get out of there?"

There is no way of knowing what warning call would be more effective....

I chose a sort of generic "HEYYYYYYYY!! HEYYYYYYYYYY! hEYYYYYYY!!" while waving my arms madly (not a pretty sight in dirty trackie bottoms and a t shirt covered in jam stains).

Two cars pulled up on either side of the Berlingo.

One woman called out "what's up?" and I pointed to the geese explaining "a fox is after them"

"I'll rattle my shopping bag" she said helpfully , getting out of her car

(I think she was thinking the action would attract the geese, who may of thought they were being fed- though i couldn't quite be sure)

A man in the other car looked rather flushed and started to wave his hands around a bit, as the woman rattled her carrier bag  at the geese who raised their heads to see what these stupid people were doing and turned slowly for the pond.

By the time a third car had stopped, I realised just how stupid we looked, and in embarrassment I started back to the car. I couldn't see the fox at all, the noise must have frightened him off, but as I pulled   hard into the side of the lane to let the irate man squeeze through, I could hear his call of "dickhead!!!!!!" as he passed.

A lovely start to the day... I need a coffee

Blanche

Well, It's just past midnight and the whole house is wide awake!

Tonight it was a fox , it burrowed under the one broody box and despite being reinforced, it broke through the floor and ripped Blanche through the smallest of holes.

The dogs and I heard the commotion as she was dragged away and even heard the plaintive cries of her single white chick, and although I was quick to run over to the field, all was silent when I got to the box.
I couldn't find my torch but luckily dug out a neurological testing pen torch in one of my uniforms...so was able to locate the traumatised chick hiding in the grass. I popped it into the incubator in the kitchen........and covered the whole thing with a tea towel as all of the dogs watched with interest.
sigh.........Blanche was my best broody hen.....she had raised chicks successfully for nearly five years .....and even brought Halleh the duck into the world........the circle of life continues eh..........

Many thanks to the neighbours too by the way....they were woken by the commotion too and banged on their windows in an effort to scare away the fox
x

Lily

The fox has returned. I let the birds out of their coops this morning and immediately noticed that I was a buff short. It was not long before I found a pile of buff feathers only fifteen feet or so from the coop and after a quick check, it was with a heavy heart that I realised that the victim was my tame buff, the sweet natured Lily.

I couldn't quite work out when she was taken? I am hoping that she was late back to her coop last night and had some how got locked out rather than the more worrying scenario of a daytime "snatch" attack. I think I would have noticed the pile of feathers yesterday, if it was the latter.....so perhaps the old girl just didn't make it home in time.

The war continues......

"Circle my wagons"- What would Gregory Peck have done?

I have no real experience with fending off enemies like the fox. Ok I have a modicum of common sense and an innate will to protect my girls, but that is about all!
Most of my knowledge comes from the Internet, local farmers and a good imagination and love of film.....so it wont surprise anyone that I found myself remembering all of these siege movies where the likes of English Postmistress Mrs Frazer finished off the Nazi filth with an axe (Went the day well) or John Wayne repelling the Indians from the children filled church in Rio Grande.........hummm so just what would have the likes of Gregory Peck have done when faced with an murderous adversary with cunning and guile

So....out I went at 6pm last night, with a 6 pack of diet coke and a large stick to watch over the flocks.
The whole experience was pretty and subtly stressful ! I parked myself in the centre of the field and for three hours constantly scanned the borders of the field as the mutton headed chickens constantly put themselves in harms way by wandering into the dark recesses of the stream and the hawthorn hedges. Occasionally I even had to curb the urge to yell over to them to return to the "safety" of the field centre....but did succumb to the odd bit of bribery when I "encouraged" the girls back into the fold with a hard bit of bagel !
Bird brain is not a phrase that I wrong I can tell you!
Anyhow, one by one the girls took themselves to bed and the night was drawn to a close without another casualty or another glimpse of Mr Fox.
I know the red faced welsh farmer would help me out if I needed a "hired gun", (and American readers my be interested to hear that the use of firearms is ruled with an iron glove by the authorities here in the UK)..but we will wait and see.....

A neighbour gave me some extra netting to plug the gaps in the pig fencing near the stream, which I did this morning, and all of the heavy greenery has been removed from the field borders. So the girls have more than a fighting chance to see any approaching predator.

I have also set up my solar powered radio on the top of the largest hen house roof, and have been tuned it to London Talk radio. I hope the sound of "chatter" might make the fox think I am around.

Remembering the 1960 movie Spartacus, I did have the urge to set up a a line of oil along the length of the fencing which I could set alight with a flaming touch thus providing a wall of fire between fox and hens.. but I suspect I was letting my imagination run away with myself when on the lonely vigil that is sentry duty!

Poor Chris....he came home last night to find me marching out of the house muttering "fu*king foxes!",, and just had time to ask "where's me tea?" before I was gone.......
( I did leave him a nice supper by the way!)
More of the same tonight
hey ho

Gosling bonding and fox watch commences

I had some advice from Mike (http://mrandmrshalpern.blogspot.com/ ) about gosling care. He suggested I take the little ones out of their shed on a regular basis for some "quality time" on pastures new. So this morning and this afternoon we have sat out in the front garden for a play.
I cannot stress this enough, goslings are a real delight. They are affectionate and careful and when unsure of anything immediately adopt the bowed posture of the adult bird.
Every time I moved around the garden, they mirrored every movement and only seemed content when either sat on mylegs and lap or in the safe shade, underneath my arm.

The rest of the day ( apart from making fish cakes for Chris' supper and walking the dogs twice) I have been concentrating on Operation Fox Watch.
It has taken over 5 hours, but I have strimmed the whole of the bottom of the field of the untidy tussocks and 4 foot grass and nettles that would camouflage any attacking fox. I have plugged the holes in the hawthorn hedge with branches and thorn bushes and had a brief fantasy of planting land mines along the fox run by the stream. Tonight I will keep guard over the field from 7 pm. Anymore problems and it will be gun time!

The fox returns

I was herding Jane, the slate grey turkey back to the turkey enclosure at 7.30 when I saw a streak in the grass around 50 yards away. I could see a white hen running for its life and behind it was the russet Brown shape of a large fox. That part of the field is very rough and covered with large tussocks and swathes of nettles, and as the hen shrieked I could see the fox jumping over the humps of grass to get hold of it.
I dropped the feed bowls I was carrying and ran over. The fox and hen disappeared into a large clump of nettles and I blundered into it after them. ( I was wearing shorts!!) and ALMOST caught the bloody thing before It shot through the hawthorn hedge.
I could see no sign of the hen, except several patches of white feathers, so I was convinced that the fox had nabbed one, but after a head count of the st Trinian group and the old hen house girls (the hens that live in the part of the field) all the poultry had been accounted for.
It took an age but I found the victim eventually. It was one of the St Trinian adolescent cockerels and apart from a few missing feathers he otherwise looked ok.
A fox attack in day time is rare.
This fox will be back.
Time to organise a gunman...
In the meantime I am off to treat my nettle stung legs!!!

Della and Pirrie to the rescue

Thank goodness for Della.
She stopped by today to let me know that she had seen a fox, as bold as brass walking down the fields near her farm , pen-y-cefn-isa, and although I know that foxes are always around, her warning put me on top alert so to speak.
Tonight, just before the light turned into dusk I made a point of leaving the warmth of the wood stove to go and watch the hens form themselves into small groups outside their respective hen houses (the turkeys and ducks had already been put away into their own houses)

Before I got to the field, I could hear the smallest of my bantam cockerels, Pirrie(above), angrily chattering away from his vantage point on the top of the ark roof. In immediate response the roosters Jesus and old Stanley started to run up the field and the three guinea fowl started to scream from the Churchyard wall. I caught sight of Hughie, Alf and Ivy and all three of them were craning their necks in the direction of the riding school in anger and panic.

I followed their gaze, and there standing 50 yards away with his face poking through a gap in the fence was a large fox.
Despite my advancing years and wellies, I galloped forward shrieking like a girl, and the fox turned and trotted off ( not galloped but trotted! how bloody rude was that?)

I stayed out until every hen was locked up and the guinea fowl were safely up in their Churchyard tree!!
Thanks again Della
x

Stupidity

The biggest threat to poultry is a stupid and careless keeper.
Last night I broke the golden rule of hen keeping. I overlooked the shutting of one of the poultry coop doors.
This morning,after I fed the pigs in the newly settled snow, I turned to see my largest coop's door open to the elements. I couldn't quite believe it, as I am fastidious in my routine of shutting the stock up for the night, but there it was , an open door and an empty coop.
I looked around; there was no blood, feathers or any signs of trauma, but all 8 hens had gone.
It didn't take long to find them, well I found five dead birds and one living hen ( a hybrid called Rose). She was cold , but unhurt under one of the coops further up the field, the five others were decapitated and scattered in the snow by the perimeter fencing.
The situation was clear, a fox had taken the opportunity I had stupidly given it, and had killed the lot.
I am so angry and upset with myself.When it comes to my animals I am not at all slap dash, but I and I alone had put the hens in direct danger from a predator who would do the most damage.
The hens killed included Jessop and her sister, the two young buffs, Bill the handsome black rock cockerel and four other young birds who I raised from chicks last year. All of the hens had only started laying properly since our last fall of snow.
First the badger kills the guinea fowl, now a fox with my assistance, kills my hens.
I feel as though I have let the field population and myself down.

More Bad news

The fox returned last night.
This morning a small circle of blue feathers marked the spot in the Churchyard where another of the guinea fowl met a sad end.
At dawn, when I returned home, only one blue and the delicate little black male survived the night, but at least both have "teamed" up with the old hand Hughie.
I am gutted.
But dogs need to be walked and pig food needs to be bought....
I will try to blog a little happier blog later

Me and my BIG mouth

Me and my big mouth! Yesterday I blogged that all the animals were fine (and specifically mentioned the guinea fowl) and last night the adolescent birds were attacked in their coop by a fox or possibly a badger!
Two birds were taken (a blue and a pied) and the body of the little white female was disemboweled and left inside the house. The three survivors were sat outside the runs with Hughie, when I went out this morning, and all looked quiet but unhurt.
I am gutted, as I had become quite attached to the little characters chattering around the place like the old ladies from Cranford.
I only wish that the birds had learnt to roost earlier, rather than to return to the coop. The trees would have provided a slightly safer place for them to sleep.
I took Chris to the station early this morning, as he is off to London to see The Jersey Boys with a friend from work. He was a little preoccupied to show me much sympathy....which is perhaps for the best!
hey ho!

Life's a bitch

It has been a real shit of a day. The weather is getting worse, and torrential rain and gale force winds have lashed the North Wales coast time and time again.

We drove the 43 miles up to Llanberis in atrocious conditions and the usual scenic views of slate and countryside looked dreadfully depressing, We had a coffee with Chris' friends then when to pick up Wellington from her run.

All there was to be found was a small pile of feathers, poor wellington had been taken from her unsecured run overnight, probably by a fox. To say I was saddened if not somewhat miffed would have been an understatement, All 5 of the ducks I had sold had been killed, and after weeks of nurturing and care......the disappointment was awful.

It has been a dreadful waste of the day

Early Warning and Early Doors

Chris had just left for work early this morning in the "pre dawn" when Hughie started his "machine gun" warning call from his advantage post in the tall tree on the edge of the Churchyard. He was incredibly loud and insistent, so I donned my wellies and galloped heavily over to the field, where I was just in time to see the ghostly figure of a fox darting away from the turkey hut. All of the reinforced coops and houses were intact, but clear scratch marks could be seen on the nailed down turkey house door. (above)
Boris' sudden change from sweetie to defensive stag can be explained now, the fox has obviously been around for a while and his presence has sparked off the turkey's testosterone!
Thank God for Hughie......his ability to warn not only me but the whole of the field population (and dare I say most of the village) has carved him a lauded position in the poultry hierarchy. I think I will keep all six of the baby guinea fowl ....with seven "pairs of eyes" watching out for predators, the poultry will, I am sure be a great deal safer

Anyhow I caught the final re run episode of a slow burn of a comedy series last night, and I must say it has been one of the best things I have seen on television in a long long time.
"Early Doors" is a sitcom in the best English tradition of Northern Working Class humour. It is an ensemble piece, where 15 or so characters that frequent the early evening openings of a run down local pub in or around Manchester worry about (and I am quoting Wikipedia here) the daily issues of "love, loneliness, and blocked urinals"
Early doors works so well because it is so gently observational (but never cruel to) its target characters. As in the more popular but not superior The Royale Family, the working class is shown "warts and all" but also with a great deal of affection! For example we haveWinnie the pub cleaner (Joan Kempson) who

has a son in prison and husband out of work yet still retains a wily sense of humour.

Debbie -(Lisa Millett) , often leaves the kids in the car while she goes in for half a cider (but does get them some coke and Crisps) she cheats on her domineering husband (She says: "If it wasn't for here, work and putting the bin out, I'd never get out the house!")

John Henshaw underplays the sad but always battling landlord Ken wonderfully and holds the whole thing together with his gentle downbeat delivery.....

if you get a chance watch this little gem....its great

Off to see the film Fish Tank (2009) later

"Get away from her you BITCH!!!"

At 6.30 am both of us were woken by the sound of shrill squawking! I ran to the window just in time to see the silhouette of a large fox scrabbling at the nearest of the hen houses, which happened to be the old rabbit hutch in which Blanche and her chick had been housed. It was Blanche that was making the noise and even from the cottage, I could make her out behind the chicken wire pecking frantically at the predator.

Even at the ripe old age of 47, I dragged on my clothes and wellies in seconds and was running to the rescue like Sigourney Weaver out of Aliens.....it is a pity I didn't have the obligatory flamethrower and space rifle, because if I had, I would have bloody used them....but as I got to the field the fox had wisely fled the scene!

All the hen houses were intact when I checked and strangely every cockerel remained silent for a good half hour afterwards.....it was as though every bird knew that danger was about!

This afternoon I have reinforced every one of the coops. New latches have been added to doors, chicken wire has been nailed into places of potential weakness and extra heavy rocks have been placed on hinged roofs. Tonight My trusty wind up torch and clothes will be laid to hand if mr fox shows up again and I have peed ( yes peed) around the perimeter of the enclosures with the dogs tonight (getting them to leave puddles as well) in an effort to discourage foxy noses! Poor Blanche , this evening she abandoned her chick and climbed up into Rogo's ark hen house rather than returning to her small broody hutch.... I carefully removed her and the hysterical chick and put them both into another separate hutch and locked them both in safely. Both settled eventually....I wonder if I will sleep tonight?

Anyhow on a brighter note 5 of the guinea fowl have hatched this afternoon. The two more robust little chaps that put in an appearance yesterday have already been set up under the heat lamp in the shed. They look just like hen chicks but are extremely nervy and jump hysterically when approached! I think they are going to be hard work!
Hazel asked me to go to theatre Clwyd this evening to see a "groundbreaking- 14 years in the making" documentary on the artist Louise Bourgeois (she of the famous spider sculptures!) Time Out stated the film was:- "An unexpectedly lyrical and poetic portrait of the now 98-year-old, feisty, French-American artist. *****"
Perhaps I am missing something..I thought it was a pretentious study of a self indulgent woman who never got over her father having an affair when she was a child! Boring!
..and I gave up having a pint with friend Geoff for this!....hey ho