It was a sad day last Thursday when one of the girls passed away just five short weeks after release from the battery pens. She was one of the weaker birds and enjoyed her time of freedom before succumbing to a fermenting crop. She was a little unwell the day before so I moved her to a quiet shed in the warm with fresh water and food. I spoke to fellow chicken keepers and had had much advice given. In the morning, she seemed to perk up and I thought she would be around for a long time. Sadly, by 12 noon she had rolled onto her side. I went to see how she was I am sure she winked at me, as if to say thank you, before drawing her last breath. At 12.02, kebab, as the youngsters named her, was in chicken land, wherever that is.

The rest of the girls knew something was wrong, suddenly appearing outside the shed. They made no noise, just peered in, fluffed up their feathers before walking off. Kebab is buried under a tree she took such a fancy too when I first let them all out to explore the garden.

What is great is the way the girls have really filled out, are laying four eggs a day and will now feed from visitors hands. If you have space and time to devote to taking ex battery hens, get them into your garden or back yard for a better life for both of you. Just one word of warning – watch your garden plants.

Shocked by the pictures of the battery hens across the world, the cramped conditions and short lives they have made me consider having hens again. Rather than buy young point of lay hens I felt this was my chance to offer a new home to a few battery chickens. I began my trawl through the internet, local papers and chatted to people who already have chickens. There I found that keeping chickens has it ups and downs like any thing in life but, on the whole, there were more ups for the ex battery hens than downs. Therefore, I bit the bullet and contacted the Battery Hen Welfare Trust (details later) in my area to find out when the next ‘rescue’ was to take place. With preparations made for the arrival of the girls, the rescue day was here. Arriving in Norwich at an address in a leafy road, I was by surprise at the number of other people waiting quietly in a LONG queue with hen friendly boxes. Joining the end, I soon started to chat to others in the line whilst trying not to let the lazy, straight through a person, Easterly wind get hold. The same story is heard from all; they had seen the pictures or read stories and decided to adopt a hen or twenty. Despite the cold, we waited for up to an hour to collect our new additions to the household. I had booked six hens and when I went around a corner of the volunteer’s house to collect them, the hens were waiting in a line ready to get into a box. Safely loaded into the car we had a short journey home. Throughout the journey, they made the odd noise but overall it was quiet – perhaps it was the Mozart playing or they were resigned to a feeling that the end was close. Gently placing the boxes into their new home I lifted the lid off the boxes and moved away, closing the door behind me. A hour later five were still sitting in the boxes whilst one had be brave and was feasting on food put out for their arrival. By the evening all six were out and pecking and scratching at the floor. They were 30% feather with the rest just skin and combs floppy and pink. Over the day, weeks and months ahead I shall report on the progress of the girls.

Jane Howorth who, with a growing number of volunteers, has saved 73,699 hens from the slaughterhouse founded the BHWT. They can be contacted at info@bhwt.org.uk, 01769 580310, North Parks, Chumleigh, Devon EX18 7EJ. They work with the farmers to save the hens and do not resort to violence. They believe the need by the consumer for cheap eggs fuels our present system of egg production so change is in our hands.