Last night i was complaining to my country vet friend that my chickens have stopped laying eggs. No green eggs for over a month.
It all started when two of the hens got broody and started sitting on eggs right before i went to california. They were each sitting on six eggs. I marked each one with a black "x" because chickens? Not so smart. Each day i'd go in and the other ten hens had gone in, sat on top of the broody hen, and layed another egg in the clutch. At the end of the day the little broody hen would be spread out, flat as a pancake, over a dozen or more eggs. Struggling to keep all of them warm.
I'd reach under them and grab the non-x'ed eggs and toss them into the woods because i cannot eat eggs at the same time as chicks are forming in other eggs. City girl mental block.
Generally chickens hatch after 21 days, but from history i know it can sometimes take up to 27 days. After 30 days we had no chicks. I solemnly took out all the eggs and threw them in the trash. And then?
They all stopped laying.
So, my vet friend said "you have to think like a chicken. You need to expect them to act like chickens, not people."
Sounds simple. So, this morning i went out to watch them and think like a chicken. The first one up and out of the house is dumptruck the rooster. He crows a bit and then stands at the door and as each hen jumps out he drops his wing, does a little horny dance and proceeds to chase her around the coop until she gives in and lets him jump on top of her for a very quick quickie.
Thinking like a chicken? Those damn roosters are annoying. And, about a month or so ago shane, tired of chicken poo on the balcony, spent an entire weekend securing the chicken run so that they couldn't get out anymore.
So, my chicken brain is telling me that those hens are sending me a message that they want that damn rooster out of their house so that they can lay some eggs in peace. My girly heart had been telling me that they were sad about the chickless eggs. But my chicken brain told me No! They will gladly kill and eat chicks after they hatch. They don't give a hoot about those chicks, chickens don't think that way.
So, dumptruck? He's been sentenced to a life outside the chicken run. At least for awhile.
Posted by Jess at 01:07 PM Permalink


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Scratch scratch...peck.. strut... peck, scratch... strut.
You could be The Chicken Whisperer.
Posted by Chair | September 13, 2006 01:26 PM