It’s quarter after seven in the evening and it just this moment occurred to me that I forgot to bring in the day’s eggs.
And I had to think back, “How could I have not done that? It’s part of the routine.” Seriously, I’m as likely to forget the eggs as I am to go to bed with my boots on. I feed’em and water’em at the same time, and I know I did that. So wtf?
Then I recalled that I had, in fact, gone into the coop to check the eggs. And then I decided to come back later, because a particular hen was sitting in the nesting box and she’s a pain in the ass about it.
I’ve read that chickens – at least the egg-laying breeds – have been bred to a point of such Darwinian stupidity that they literally don’t know how to hatch eggs. That if a person wants to raise chickens from the egg without a brooder, that person must seek a ‘broody hen,’ a sort of devolutionary throwback that still wants to sit on the eggs even if she doesn’t know why.
I have never yet encountered one of these chickens, but this particular hen must come close. She doesn’t seem to think it necessary to sit on the eggs, apparently just keeping them company is plenty fine. After all nobody coddled her through life, and she turned out just peachy. It’s possible she might not make the very best of mothers…
But let her be present for the robbing of the nesting box, and she is by god there to sound the alarm! Every time I try to reach past her she gives me a couple of good pecks and then flees the coop screaming at the top of her avian little lungs. And since she can’t get out the big door past me she has to negotiate the roosting branches flapping and screaming like a madchicken until she makes her way to the little high door. She is deafening, and all this activity goes on within inches or less of my one-and-only face.
So I thought I’d just peek in on the eggs later, after the evening trip to Landlady’s chickens. Naturally, since this was a break in the routine, I proceeded to forget all about it until a few minutes ago. I’d go interrupt their sleep, but it’s not supposed to get that cold tonight so I’ll just do it in the morning.
I hate when that happens! LOL Unfortunately, the older I get, the more often that happens. I have a routine for most things, the only way to remember to get things done at all, but if I get interrupted all bets are off. And, the older I get, the more apt I am to get interrupted… living with a small bladder has never been fun, but it’s getting ridiculous now. LOL
Joel, you are at your cranky old hermit best when you write about your chicken relationships and adventures. Try going in for the eggs with a handful of a yummy food. Simultaneously hand hand her the food with one hand, snatch the eggs with the other. You could also try giving her some wooden eggs. Sounds like she won’t know the difference. You could also paint the wooden eggs with black spots like a horse or a cow. But food is always the best distraction. Remember that the next time you want to woo a woman.
If you get a good broody hen, keep her. They are hard to come by! I’ve heard Silkies are just about the best nowadays. They don’t lay much, but they’ll sit on any egg they find.