drama in the henhouse
So we have a broody hen. I went out this morning to take a picture of her because, well, that’s the sort of thing I do. My kids don’t realise how grateful they should be for the invention of digital cameras because otherwise they’d have dumpster loads to pitch someday.
Anyway, the broody hen, all cosy in her nest, usually looks something like this:
(Please forgive the quality of the following photos. The light in the chicken coop is not ideal.)
But this morning, the broody hen’s nesting box looked like this:
Two hens in one box. Note: the hen at the front is not the broody hen. She has her butt in the broody hen’s face.
The intruder squirmed:
before finally settling in, although not without complaint:
Complaining Hen: “Why does she get the fancy box all the time? I called it first!”
Broody Hen: “Mmppfff.” (Her beak was full of Complaining Hen’s feathers.)
Meanwhile, the rooster heard me enter the coop and came rushing from the run to investigate:
With a steely gaze, he began crowing his head off, deafening me until I turned to flee.
But not before I caught a glimpse of the neighbouring hen:
who I could have sworn was sighing and shaking her head over the foolishness next door.