Tag Archives: chicken shelter

Lovely weather for ducks**

I wake up very early each morning with the quacking of ducks in the fields.

Correction: I woke up every morning with the quacking of ducks, because last Sunday it woke up with this: BOOM BOOM BANG BANG BOOM BANG bang bang bang BENG BOOM POP poppoppoppoppoppop POPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOPPOP beng pop pop pop bang bang BOOM BOOM ad infinitum

Opening of the hunting season, duck, duck, go!

It sounds pretty frustrated, as if these hunters had to wait for a long time, and that is exactly the case. They’ve not been allowed to hunt from the spring, so now the bloodthirst is huge.

It sounds like that.

I usually come to the surface at about 6 o’clock, and although I am not completely awake yet, all kinds of things are coming in. Sometimes I vaguely hear the baker coming or driving away, but usually I heard the ducks quacking.

That gives a cozy and good feeling

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What is it, that the duckling of ducklings sounds so cheerful and unconcerned?

“Enjoy your life, guys,” I thought, “it probably doesn’t take that long anymore.”

We once had a couple of ducks. Together with a chicken hen that was a very nice group

Unfortunately, it ended in a drama, just like the good life of those little ones in the fields.

One duckling didn’t survive and died at a very young age, so the remaining duckling joined the chickens. We learned early on to have only females, without a rooster. After all, we don’t want chicks, and for eggs a rooster is not necessary. That’s what they arrange themselves.

And they also organize their daily routine to grassy meadows and back again

They were still very young, so they accepted the duck as one of them. And the duckling was a sweetheart. I have seen her come back to the backyard, to call a distracted chicken that didn’t go to bed with the pack.

She had a very sweet look in her eyes. She was a very sweet duck

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It was a pleasure to see her play and in the ditch, chattering and quacking of joy, diving under water, enjoying the water and her playing with it. The chickens would stand on the side, shrugging – it is a bit of a weirdo, you saw them thinking.

Everything was idyllic and I’m sorry to kill this now, but I really can’t do anything about that, because the killing … that was done by a hungry stray dog.

Our chickens were free to come and go when and where they wanted. Well, in theory, in practice they were lured onto a path, and once chickens have done something so-and-so, they always do the same thing.

Very handy, nice and clear

In the mornings they wandered to the orchard to eat grass, pick up worms and take a sand bath, each went back to lay an egg in private and safety, and they all would come back at the end of the afternoon. to go to bed early. And the duck would tag along.

Maybe I also have a murder on my conscience

The duck swam less and less and did more and more with the chickens – those who were left after the stray dog’s visit. The dog had killed four of them, and the remaining six were clearly more on their guard, especially the first time.

The duckling watched them. That was the moment she went back to get the distracted chicken from the backyard, the group was not complete. So sweet.

Incomprehensible that there are people who think that animals have no feelings. I clearly saw the dismay in the eyes of Big White Fat Susan when she came to the scene of the disaster the day after the drama: “Oh no!” you saw her think, “Oh no, I will never go there again!”

Logical. Where your four sisters are horribly killed, and left torn, no, you will never go there again

I had noticed that the duck was no longer swimming in the ditch. Would it have become too cold? But the water never really gets cold, it comes with 30º out of the well. Then it cools down at night, but it was not that cold at the end of October.

I tried to lure her into the water. That worked, and it seemed like she was having a good time

Sorry, dear readers. This is a dramatic little story. The next morning I found her in the ditch. Drowned.

She probably hadn’t swum for too long.

** title of a lovely old song of Rosemary Clooney

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Country life

It comes to me when I’m in bed in the evening. I can’t help it, the images are coming. They must have been incredibly scared. First transferred to a strange environment, where everything is different from what you’re used to. Country life instead of living in a huge shed.

Better, but very different.

Running outside is not an option. First of all, stay together in a safe dark corner for the certainty. You never know.

These are disadvantaged youth, all girls in this case

They weren’t treated well during their short life. With us they would get a better life, they’d live in  paradise, they could develop themselves, they would finally be secure and safe …. oh, we were full of good intentions! We did our best to make their accommodation as beautiful and comfortable as possible, the volunteers and us.

Raquel and Desi were cutting bamboo to make a nice fence, I had bought a lot of food and Broes had taken care of the rest.

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But a hunter was on the prowl

She knew she had to stay away. She was told very clearly again and again. She behaved, that first day, but that was mainly because we were in the neighbourhood, at work with the upcoming archery track.

She was curious, interested, but we thought it was safe. We know her well enough, we know she has a dangerous character. Not for us, we don’t run any risk.

That afternoon I saw her in the cot, when I came back from my lunch break

“How did you get in here?” I cried angrily, “away with you, you nasty creature!” She was already through the door, which I had difficulty going through. We made it that way on purpose, that it wouldn’t be possible for her to get in. Ha! Apparently it was the other way around.

I checked on the girls first and then went looking for a hole

She betrayed herself by sneaking back to her secret entrance when she thought I was gone again. But I’m not stupid, I was around the corner, ready to catch her.

She did not wait for a long time.

“Ha! Caught red handed”, I cried triumphantly, and started the repair work. Everything safe, I thought, well worth the effort. The next morning there’s no one in sight. No chicken, that is.

Ai! What is it … ? How is this possible? Who has … ?

“No, I do not want anything to do with her,” I say disappointed, sad and angry. Gentle Raquel, the Spanish volunteer, tried to talk me into forgiving Donkeydog.

“She’s a mass murderer, and she did it on purpose. She just waited until it was dark, she’s a  sneaky little devil. ”

I didn’t talk to her for a week

I kept on chasing her away: “Just go, you nasty girl! Killer! “” I did give her food (why I don’t know, she had 7 fresh chickens!), but for the rest I ignored her.

Yes, I know, it’s instinct, it’s nature, it’s country life, and I knew the risk in advance, but it’s a disappointment. Most likely, I have to give up the idea: a cozy little group of chickens, walking in the orchard, taking sandbaths in the sun, and fresh eggs every day.

My so-called punishment has little to no effect

She gets more and more an air of: “Well, okay, if you do’nt want me any more … then not!” I have to get over myself and forgive her.

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Thanks to: hondenblogo.nl

I’m not giving up yet! This must be possible. There must be a way to get a dog and a few chickens to live in peace? If you have ideas, if you’re an expert on the matter, pass it on! Any advice is welcome!

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We moved here in 2000 from Rotterdam, Holland to the Termas da Azenha, Portugal. A big step, especially with two small children. We are busy to rebuild one of portugal’s cultural heirlooms. Termas da Azenha, a old spa which has been turned into several holiday homes, rooms and camping ground, there’s also a swimming pool. You’ll find mosaics and paintings everywhere. The old bathhouse is a museum, where you can see how things have changed.

Each week a little blog about what is happening around us. An easy read. A few minutes in another world. A little about what it going on in Portugal. If you plan your holiday to Portugal, it might be a nice preparation. We have some nice special offers on our site.

You can subscribe to this blog:

 

You’ll get it every weekend in your mailbox.

On Sunday morning we publish it on our Facebook Page, on Google+, on Pinterest, and on monday on LinkedIn.

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Chicken shelter

I’m in the car with my sister. She drives quite fast in the city traffic, and I’m not used to traffic like that anymore. With us in the country, sometimes a car passes by, but it’s been years since I’ve been stuck in traffic. Maybe even 20 years.

In the Netherlands, it is a little busier on the road, but we’re in the busiest part of the country. I always have to get used to the fact that she’s driving right behind the other car (a tailgater!) – in Portugal there are billboards to prevent that, but here everyone does it.

You have to, otherwise you take up too much space

After an hour I’m used to it, because my sister is not just someone who drives fast, she’s also a very good driver, so I feel completely safe, even though I’m in the “dead man’s seat”. I think she’s had never had an accident in her entire life.

(and now I’m going to stop talking about it, because otherwise I’ll jinx it, and we do not want that!)

For the most part, it’s driving on automatic pilot, so meanwhile we’re chatting. It can go all over the place, doesn’t matter, we easily pick up the thread of a previous subject – we’re used to each other.

A girlfriend of hers has a double bed, as good as new, and if I want it.

Yes of course. Please. We have about 24 of them in our village, and there’s one that needs an upgrade. We need to determine the right time to pick it up, because her girlfriend will go on holiday, and she has to bring her chickens to the chicken shelter.

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Pardon? Did I hear that correctly?

I think: a joke, because I’ve become a bit Portuguese, and I’ve never heard of a chicken shelter. But no, seriously, she has 3 chickens and a rooster, and they’ll go for an uncertain period of time with their camper van through southern Europe. Normally the neighbors take care of their chickens, but for an indefinite period you can’t  ask that.

So a chicken shelter. I need some time to laugh really loud

“Ah gosh, I remember that I had a sick chicken, the first time we ever had them, and I called the vet. I thought the lack of understanding was because I didn’t speak Portuguese that well, but that was not it, it was because the man was stunned that I wanted to pass by with a sick chicken”, I’m chuckling,”and now I understand how foolish that was then.”

“Yes, logical,” concludes my sister, who also has learned a lot about Portuguese farming methods, and furthermore lives outside in the country, “a sick chicken, you just wring their neck.”

End of story. And if possible she will be soup

“Chicken shelter”, I think it’s a great idea, “Is there also a refuge center for abused chickens? Because the chickens I’ve had, and that’s been quite a number, didn’t like it when the rooster got after them. They all fled. And then that’s asking for it of course. Provocation!”

“Yes, there is little more challenging than a fleeing chicken,” my sister laughs, “why don’t you start a chicken shelter in the Termas yourself? Plenty of space!”

Haha. LOL. I doubt there is a market for it. Probably not … but it’s a good idea!

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We moved here in 2000 from Rotterdam, Holland to the Termas da Azenha, Portugal. A big step, especially with two small children. We are busy to rebuild one of portugal’s cultural heirlooms. Termas da Azenha, a old spa which has been turned into several holiday homes, rooms and camping ground, there’s also a swimming pool. You’ll find mosaics and paintings everywhere. The old bathhouse is a museum, where you can see how things have changed.

Each week a little blog about what is happening around us. An easy read. A few minutes in another world. A little about what it going on in Portugal. If you plan your holiday to Portugal, it might be a nice preparation. We have some nice special offers on our site.

You can subscribe to this blog:

 

You’ll get it every weekend in your mailbox.

On Sunday morning we publish it on our Facebook Page, on Google+, on Pinterest, and on monday on LinkedIn.

 

You like? Please like! And sharing is not forbidden ....