Day 312.

Feeding Blind Licorice. Photography by F L Campbell

Bush eggs: none. Nest box eggs: one – ME again! Put that in your nest and sit on it Ella! Feed hopper: not empty but no larder either.

It’s a slow day so I will write more on the Sad History of Licorice and Betty.

Licorice, he was a weird one. Pure Orpington, as beautiful as they come, with glossy black feathers shot through with startling, iridescent green. He was also depressed, half blind and lame – HOPELESS. It gives more power to my argument against overbred purebreds.

The Old One took pity on him and as well as hand feeding him because of his blindness, moved the broody box and run to the pond area so he could live there in unmolested solitude but he was terribly lonely, very much a case of couldn’t live with us, couldn’t live without us. Then the people moved Betty, who wasn’t coping living with us, in for company. But it was like watching a bad taste comedy seeing if they would get it together. The more Licorice tried to court her in his stumbling, half-blind way, the more nervous Betty became. And the more scatty she became the more desperate Licorice was to impress her. After a while it got so bad that the people moved Betty out of the pond area, back to us. At that point Licorice got REALLY depressed. I overheard The Female Person say that she could “cope with half blind and lame, but not depressed chickens – we need the ’man with the axe’ to visit”. Terrible.

It’s strange that both Betty and Licorice couldn’t cope living with us. I don’t believe we are a particularly hard flock to live with but chickens do have to be able to function within the flock for it to be a happy time for everybody. Basically oddballs and deviants need not apply.

A poem about Licorice by Ruby
Half blind half lame half wit all shame
Black feathers black heart black life
Purebred pure uselessness
Now dead and not missed


Hmmm. It’s good – in fact very good, but I don’t know why.