Brood No More
...
Our silly hen Harriet has stopped being broody. She has finally realized that there is no purpose in spending the entire day sitting on an empty nest.
Towards the end of her broodiness, Robb and I started locking her out of the henhouse. Her behavior was disrupting all the other hens, and she wasn't eating or drinking -- just sitting, staring into space.
During that time, Harriet was not to be deterred. She wanted to sit on her nest, no matter what.
At one point, we closed up the henhouse, but left the top of the nestbox open. We were a little worried about parasitic mites, so we had dusted the nestboxes with diatomaceous earth, and were airing things out.
Harriet seemed determined to get back to her nonexistent eggs. She flew up onto one of our beehives, and considered her flight options. (Do you like our Saint Catherine's Lace? It's taller than I am, and is a magnet to all sorts of interesting bees.) Robb and I were pretty shocked when Harriet got up on the beehive, because we honestly thought Harriet was too chubby (or lazy) to fly that high.
We were also surprised to discover that sometime during the uproar of Harriet's broodiness, the other hens decided to resume laying. But since Harriet was monopolizing all three nestboxes, and generally being a Chicken Bully, they laid their eggs in the compost pile.
I'm glad things are back to normal. Or what passes for normal, around here.
Our silly hen Harriet has stopped being broody. She has finally realized that there is no purpose in spending the entire day sitting on an empty nest.
Towards the end of her broodiness, Robb and I started locking her out of the henhouse. Her behavior was disrupting all the other hens, and she wasn't eating or drinking -- just sitting, staring into space.
During that time, Harriet was not to be deterred. She wanted to sit on her nest, no matter what.
At one point, we closed up the henhouse, but left the top of the nestbox open. We were a little worried about parasitic mites, so we had dusted the nestboxes with diatomaceous earth, and were airing things out.
Harriet seemed determined to get back to her nonexistent eggs. She flew up onto one of our beehives, and considered her flight options. (Do you like our Saint Catherine's Lace? It's taller than I am, and is a magnet to all sorts of interesting bees.) Robb and I were pretty shocked when Harriet got up on the beehive, because we honestly thought Harriet was too chubby (or lazy) to fly that high.
We were also surprised to discover that sometime during the uproar of Harriet's broodiness, the other hens decided to resume laying. But since Harriet was monopolizing all three nestboxes, and generally being a Chicken Bully, they laid their eggs in the compost pile.
I'm glad things are back to normal. Or what passes for normal, around here.
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