The current routine at The Chookery is to feed the chooks grain when they are released from their nocturnal confinement as I go off to work. Charlie is always the first out of the coop and he follows close on my heels as I go back up towards the garage, where the grain is stored. Most of the other chooks follow in Charlie’s wake, but there are usually one or two who still haven’t cottoned on to the fact that I’m the boy around here who dishes out the breakfast and they tend to come late to the plate. One of the dozier chooks in that respect is Hennifer, a small, auburn fowl with a red head and neck and named for her colouring after a lady of my earlier acquaintance.
The brighter chooks now associate the garage with the grain that cometh forth from within it and cluster and clucker around my feet as I go up to it. I scatter the grain on the drive and they are soon at it, getting all they can. Now that it’s autumn, the phantam joins in as well and a hen pheasant has been a recent visitor to the table. There is plenty of scratching and chookie goodness to be had in the extensive grounds of The Chookery, so the chooks are far from dependent upon grain, but it’s a useful supplement to their diet and a pleasure to feed them.