To quash any concern at the outset about the marital relations concealed within The Chookery, this is not a reference to PTC and Her Maj’s nocturnal arrangements, but one that PTC felt obliged to enforce for the anserine residents this evening. Regular readers will recall, and new ones won’t, that there are four geese resident at The Chookery. Three of them are ordinary domestic geese and one a small Chinese goose. There is one gander, known to PTC as “The Sergeant” and the two domestic geese are nominated “White Goose” and “Grey Goose”. The Chinese goose, of the goose-not-gander variety, is known as “China”. Since the departure of Droopy-Drawers (look it up for yourself in December’s postings), China has been the bottom of the goose pecking order. It’s all a little sad, because she’s a sweet thing, insofar as a goose can be sweet without the application of fruit sauces, but today The Sergeant has been giving her a rotten time. When I put them into their pen this evening, it was clear that The Sergeant wanted his girls around him and China was the goose-berry. To prevent further conflict, I decided to put the three other geese into one of the smaller enclosures and China into another that exist within the larger goose pen. This seems to have quietened the situation a bit, but we’ll need to keep an eye on things. I suspect that The Sergeant feels the sap rising, either that or he’s feeling intimidated by Chalky’s prowess amongst the chooks.
As to the chooks themselves, Her Maj reports that clearing out the illegally-laid eggs inside the coop has encouraged them to return to the path of the enlightened chook and lay again in the nesting boxes. Anyway, made a purcahse of a large bale of wood shavings at the agricultural merchants today, so tomorrow will clean out and replenish the bedding inside the coop.
Interesting to report an observation tonight on the behaviour of one of the black chooks. As the sun set, the chooks all return to their pen and most of them go into the coop. The last thing that Chalky does is to perch on the fence next to the chook pen and check everything’s all right before he hops down, ruffles himself and toddles off into the pen with his girls. The black chooks are in the habit of roosting in the trees. This evening, one of the black chooks decided to take a last turn around the garden before retiring. Her chum, having climbed twenty feet up into the tree, then set up a most tremendous racket of clucking and calling which only ceased when the late-comer made her sedate way back into the pen and up onto the same branch.