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It’s been a fun week watching the combed and feathered threesome cluck, peck, and strut around their coop in the garden. Whether it’s been sitting down for a sunny evening tipple, or pulling weeds out of the fruit bed, every job gets disturbed by some chicken chat. Barbara, Gerry, and Margot didn’t even get spooked (or chooked) by the lawnmower when it swept by, inches from their long, skinny toes.

But, it didn’t take long. One of the laying ladies has made a bid for freedom. Last week, I reported that Barbara was more than little mischievous, and and so it’s proved. Taken out yesterday for a tickle, she leapt onto the ground and made us run around the garden after her. Weaving in and out between the greenhouse and the coop, she always stayed one step ahead of us (or rather Nik, as I was frozen to the spot with the sight of a large white bird running around the grass, making some rather distressed noises).

Oscar wisely kept out of the way. The stones near the railway sleepers at the far left corner of the garden stopped Barbara in her scaly-toed tracks, though, and she was scooped up again to enjoy a quiet cuddle before being reunited with Gerry and Margot. It’s funny; if one of the flock is out, the others seem to sense it, clucking and cooing until the missing member struts back in, sometimes with a slight flap of wings.

Barbara’s wings were definitely in a flap yesterday afternoon in the open air. Much more so than in the coop, where she is asserting herself as top hen, picking on both smaller Gerry, and Margot, who being the same size, is a much fairer enemy. Gerry’s still our favourite of course (even though we said we wouldn’t have one), and if she’s picked on, she’ll stay that way, too, as her vulnerability will ultimately be our downfall.

The laying ladies have arrived, and we’re now officially chicken keepers. After spending three hours at Hens4Homes in deepest Essex, where Kirsty gave us a beginner’s chicken-keeping and hen-handling lesson, we collected the three ladies, drove them home, and let them explore their new house.

That was Saturday, and over the last two days, they seem to have settled in well. Their tails are high and pointy (the sign of a happy hen), and there seems (as yet) to be no pecking order. The feathery three are behaving well; going to bed up the ladder to the coop at sun down just as they should, and although they’ve churned up the garden, they’re enjoying their dust baths in the shadows under the hen house itself.

If you’re lucky, they’ll even let you pick them up for a tickle.

It almost seemed at one point that they wouldn’t arrive at all. But, here they are; Gerry, Barbara, and Margot. The names were already decided, the breeds not, but both were a good match. Gerry is a golden Amber Ranger, Barbara a white Sussex Ranger, and Margot is the posh one, a black and copper Maran Cuivre. They’re each developing personalities, already. Gerry is the friendliest, while Barbara can be a little mischievous. Margot on the other hand, is living up to her Good Life TV namesake, and is a little stand-offish.

But they cluck happily together, sleep peacefully in the Eglu, and seem to get on with each other. They were all in the same pen before, sharing the place with 147 other birds, so may have rubbed feathers with one another while passing. It may be seven weeks until the first eggs arrive, but I think we’ll have fun watching them until then.