Chicken troubles

The sun rose on a frosty morning Sunday.

A frosty Sunday morning

The day before, I noticed that Miss Clavelle (a Dominique) was camped out in a nest box. I put a leg band on her so we could determine if she was in there all the time and therefore broody. We haven’t had a broody hen for awhile, so I’ll review. The primordial chicken had to hatch eggs. After laying a clutch, her hormones shifted so her body temperature increased, especially on her breast, so that she could successfully incubate or “brood” the eggs. Many modern breeds have had the broodiness bred out of them. Those folks who want to raise chicks instead of picking them up at the post office have to raise breeds that will still go broody. The rest of us try to avoid broody breeds.

The first time it happened to us, it was a crisis. The hen never wants to leave the nest box, even to eat or drink. Since the unfertilized eggs will never hatch (and we keep removing them), this could go on until she starves. I did my research and ran to Tractor Supply for a rabbit hutch, the preferred containment for broodiness. The rabbit hutch has a screen bottom so the hen can’t keep her breast warm. As her body cools, the hormones go back to normal. Broodiness cured!

Sunday morning, Miss Clavelle was still in the nest box. I got the rabbit hutch out of storage and found the bowls for food and water.

Broody Miss Clavelle  in the nest box--what are YOU looking at?

I also noticed that Hilda’s special chicken-friend Layla did not look good. When all the other girls were out having their scratch grain treats, she was hunched on the perch. She was a bit puny last week as well, but she seemed to rally when I put her outside. This time, though, Carmella was on her in an instant, pecking. I pushed Carmella away several times, but she was really persistent! Finally, I put Layla back on the perch, where it seemed safer.

Layla on the perch, not looking good

After Hilda and Dad were done with their usual Sunday brunch, I got Hilda to help put Miss Clavelle in the rabbit hutch. Alas, Layla was on the floor, dead and stiff. She seemed to have died peacefully. I asked Terry to dispose of the remains. We stroked her beautiful golden-edged black neck feathers one last time. She was over two years old. She should have gone to the butcher in July, but it was dark, and I was up north. Terry and Hilda did the best they could, but two one-year olds were butchered and Layla and Bella survived. This is, however, a reminder of why we decided to only keep the layers two years. After that, they die anyway. It will be interesting to see how long Bella makes it.

When we were done morning, Hilda pulled Miss Clavelle from the nest box with some difficulty. Miss Clavelle somehow got purchase on the box with her feet and was loathe to let go. When Hilda finally had her securely tucked under her arm, I opened and shut the various doors until Miss Clavelle was in the hutch. And she was NOT happy.

An unhappy Miss Clavelle in the rabbit hutch

And yet, she started eating ravenously in a very short time. Tuesday morning, we put her back in the run. So far, so good. We miss Layla, though.