"Here chook, chook, chook!"

Eighteen chooks arrived at Wallaby Scrub on Saturday. To get them home we draped the tarp in the back of the van, closed the door and tossed the chickens in the window! Sounds a little unorthodox, I know, but how else was I supposed to transport them? When we arrived home we still had a little bit of securing to finish on the pen. The chickens stayed quietly in the van, and they must have felt OK because one of them laid an egg.

I wasn't satisfied that the chook pen was quoll proof, so we tossed the hens into the dogs' run which was safe enough for the night - although altogether too small. It was also raining on Saturday, and both Elsie and I felt miserable standing in the wet trying to twist wire. We quit, and opted for the easier way out that evening.

Next morning I was up very early to start on the pen again. It wasn't long before the chooks took residence in their new home. To finish off the securing we needed someone to be inside the cage to poke the wire ties back through. Tildy did this. But then we had to cut a trap door in the roof for her to climb out for she was penned in with the chickens.

Does the chicken run sound a little unorthodox also? Well, it is. It was proudly designed and built by .... the farmer's wife. And it has a very feminine flavour. (I've already put in my order for the farmer to build a better one when he gets home.)

So Sunday we were rewarded with 11 eggs. Another 5 were laid today. I figure that it may take a while for them to get over the shock of the truck trip from Brissy, the van trip over bumpy tracks, the dog run Saturday night, the transfer from run to pen Sunday morning, and us building the pen around them.

That reminds me. The transfer was performed ceremoniously by the children. A couple escaped under the house. The dogs were being yelled at to "Get out of it!" Jessica squeeled everytime the chooks flapped. Josiah quite enjoyed when a chicken escaped his grasp and he 'needed' to chase after it. But the cutest site was Jess carrying a chicken very seriously, everyone was offering to take it, but she said she could do it, and she did.

All the children enjoyed sitting in the hen house with their new found friends. Favourites have been chosen, names have been given. We can already see the pecking order falling into place... of the chickens, not the children.