Speedy Run Fast

 

Speedy Run Fast looking for her rooster

Speedy Run Fast came from the only egg Emu, my Chinese Silky hen, hatched earlier this year.  Her egg mother is a Faverolle and her father is one of three candidates (either of the two Hamburg roosters or Phoenix, my recently departed rooster).  Chinese Silkies seem to spend more time being broody, whether they have eggs to sit on or not, so they usually get to be mums while the Faverolles and Sussex girls, who tend to go broody only once a season, miss out.  I’d put six eggs under Emu and checked every day that she still had six eggs to incubate.  Three eggs disappeared during the incubation period – we have bearded dragons and blue tongue lizards on the farm, both of which I believe visit the chook yard and steal eggs (it’s that or I’m feeding a lot of freeloaders in the chook yard), and l the last two eggs didn’t hatch before Emu gave them up as a bad lot and concentrated her efforts on raising her one little chicken.

As the chicken grew and grew, Emu seemed very proud of her giant daughter, and took very good care of her, despite the fact that said daughter towered over her mother.  Speedy stuck close to mum and thrived.  When my grandson Elliott visited shortly after Speedy was born, I asked him what we should call the chicken.  I told him I thought it was a girl, but I could be wrong.  Elliott decided the chicken needed to be caught so he could have a good look at it (and a cuddle) to see what name suited it.  Elliott then proceeded to chase Speedy and Emu around the yard yelling, “I just want to hold you so I can think of a good name!”  Neither Emu nor Speedy felt this was a good enough reason to allow themselves to be caught and in the end Elliott decided that as she was that fast, Speedy Run Fast was the best name for her.  He also commented that if she slowed down as she grew up we could then call her Slow.  I am happy to report that Speedy still earns her name and doesn’t need to be renamed Slow.

Lately Speedy is turning into a personality.  I ask myself if I need another personality in the chook yard.  Heavens knows I already have a number of chooks with peculiar foibles, like the Faverolle hen who sits on her bottom with her feet out in front of her, and Bunny, the ancient Easter Egger hen who is the smallest in the yard but the boss of everyone, but, whether I need another personality or not, Speedy is definitely developing quirks.  She began to show an independent spirit a few months back when I thought I’d lost her one afternoon.  I searched everywhere and thought she must have managed to get out of the chook yard somehow and how was I going to tell Elliott Speedy was gone!?  It was about this time, when I was panicking, that I heard a soft clucking noise coming from way above my head.  I looked up and found Speedy sitting about 3 metres up in the pine tree, for all the world looking like she was trying to impersonate a parrot!  I had stern words with Speedy about the dangers of being so high up when her flying skills were practically non-existent, and how much safer she’d be if she slept with her mum and Aunty George.  Speedy ignored me and continued to sleep high up in the pine tree every night.  Some days she’d come down on the wrong side of the fence, but still in the chook yard thankfully.  She’d fuss and bother, trying to get back in with the Silkies, until I’d discover her and put her back. 

When Elliott visited next, I tattled on Speedy, telling him what a naughty chook Speedy was with her dangerous sleeping quarters.  Elliott marched right up to the chook yard, found Speedy mooching around the Silkies’ yard looking for tasty worms or whatever, and proceeded to wag his finger at her and tell her she was to stop sleeping in the tree and be a good hen.  Believe it or not, Speedy has never slept in the tree since!  I tell you Elliott has super powers.  Speedy decided that if the tree branch was off limits, the lintel at the top of the gatepost to the Silkies’ yard was her new, preferred sleeping location.  I was fine with this because there was no chance of her coming down outside the chook yard and into the wilds of the farm.  I told Elliott what a great job he’d done convincing Speedy to stop sleeping in the tree.  Elliott just gave a dignified little nod as if to say, “Well what did you expect?”  Peace reigned for a few weeks. 

Recently, Speedy has begun to lay eggs.  Shortly after this momentous occasion, she decided that she’d outgrown the Silkies and moved herself out to the main chook yard with the big girls, where she spends her days flirting with one of the Hamburg roosters.  She has a favourite, the smaller of the two boys, and she and the rooster spend their days at the far end of the chook yard together away from the general chook population.  I've pointed out to Speedy, that from her colouring and speckles, there's a 33% chance this rooster is her father and a 33% chance he's her uncle (the other 33% chance is she's Phoenix's daughter), but Speedy doesn't care.  Speedy believes it to be true love and turns a deaf ear to all I have to say about falling in love with close relatives.  I've decided that we'll just declare her to be Phoenix's daughter and any future matings between Speedy and the Hamburg rooster (I suppose I really should name the two boys) will be OK.

Speedy and her rooster

Speedy's other quirk causes me no end of end-of-the-day exercise.  Although she is now one of the big girls and lives in the big girls' yard, Speedy continues to prefer to sleep in her usual spot on the gatepost lintel between the Silkies’ yard and the main yard, where she moved to after the dreaded sleeping in the pine tree episode.  The problem is that to get to the top of the gatepost Speedy used to flap/climb onto the top of the nesting box and then flap/climb onto the gatepost.  On the big girls' side, there is no convenient box nearby for her to use as a starting point.  No matter how many awkward attempts she has at flapping and trying to get her very rotund body off the ground, Speedy can't manage to get to the top of the gate.  Now, when I put the chooks away each night, there is an added step before I can go inside for the night.  I gather the feathery population, do my headcount - it goes something like 3 (Sussex), 2 (Faverolle hens),1 (D’Artagnan), 2 (Hamburg roosters) ,4 (drakes), 1 Bunny (the Easter Egger) and 1 (Speedy), remembering to include that extra one count for Speedy, close the main chook yard gate, round Speedy up, and place her on top of the gatepost. 

Rounding Speedy up is not an easy job, despite the fact that I've been rounding her up each day for a while now, and gently putting her on the gatepost lintel, Speedy is sure that this time I'm up to no good and any wise chook would run for her life!  Elliott got it right when he named Speedy.  Despite her tubby appearance, she is very nimble on her feet.  When she runs for her life, she puts her all into it.  The other chooks and roosters realise that there is extreme danger nearby and set up crowing and squawking in sympathy with Speedy, but thankfully that’s as far as their support goes for the chook in deadly peril.  I'm just grateful that her friend the rooster doesn't have a gallant bone in his body, and stays right where he is, out of the danger zone.  Phoenix would have come charging to Speedy's defence, talons first and questions later, at the first squawk she made.

I eventually manage to catch her and gently lift her to her preferred sleeping spot.  Speedy then quiets down, but strangely, before she settles down she does a thorough inspection of the bar, making soft, concerned clucking sounds while the inspection takes place (to make sure I haven't laid any landmines I suppose).  Once she's assured herself that she is safe, Speedy finally settles down for the night.  Once that's accomplished, I can go inside for the night and swear I won't be so helpful the next time - I always am though.