Broody and Moody

At various times through the year, my hens get quite broody.  Typically two of the them are the worst culprits - Honey and Penguin.  They spend more than their fair share of time sitting in the nest boxes for weeks on end.  Despite my best efforts to get them out of this state by removing eggs and forcibly making them go outside for a forage, they are stubborn and remain broody until they are good and ready.  They are girls, after all!

They are nasty when they are in this mood.  I can count on being pecked quite aggressively when I try and remove eggs or move them.

Don't mess with a broody girl.

One of my hens, Sesame, is an older girl and has rarely gone broody.  Generally, she's a pretty social and happy hen, and is quite even tempered (unlike the neurotic Electra or the bitchy Penguin).  It's safe to say that she is probably my favourite of the girls.

Sesame isn't quite this affectionate.

It was quite upsetting a couple of weeks ago when she disappeared.  Was it a fox?  Had she suddenly departed this world and gone to the great chicken coop in the sky?  Had she wandered into the neighbours yard to be hen-napped again?  Where was my girl?  It's always the favourites that seem to disappear or meet an untimely end.

Our first unplanned pregnancy - Apricot - shortly after hatching.

The other explanation for her disappearance was that she had gone broody and was sitting on some eggs somewhere in our yard.  When Electra disappeared the year before last, we thought she had been dinner for a neighbour's dog, but then she reappeared three weeks later with almost 20 adorable chicks in tow.  We had no idea that she had been hiding out in our yard for that whole time, and making sneaky little forays to get food when we weren't looking.

The remains of Electra's hatch last year.
The one on the right with the white dot on his head
is Harvey Henbanger.  The other two are
Uno (left) and Penguin (middle).

So where was Sesame?  Fast forward to a couple of days later and she was spotted down at the chook pen, desperate for some food.  Phew, she wasn't dead.  But where was her stash of eggs?

Occasionally, I would have a wander around the garden, checking all of the usual spots that they liked to lay eggs.  Nothing.  I tried to stalk her when she was out one time to see if I could follow her, but she took her time and I had to go to work.  I was still in the dark about her hiding place.

I felt sorry for her too, as we have been having very wet weather, and she had to suffer through it while sitting on her eggs.  It was her choice, I guess, to be a mother.

Electra and her chicks

The thought of having cute little chicks again was very enticing.  They are really, really cute, and I had so much fun watching the last lot grow up and develop.  You can see their individual personalities very early on, and it's amazing to watch how the mother hen manages and raises them.  However, the down side is that in any hatch, there are going to be roosters.  And unfortunately for roosters, there isn't a lot of space for them in this world.  We have two acres and are only allowed one by council, and they are very hard to rehome.  The sad fact is that most end up in the pot.  Not mine, because I can't bear to eat something that I've watched grow up.  Dealing with roosters is a big negative for raising chicks. 

Honey with Apricot (oh boy, that sounds
like a recipe!)

I had two roosters to deal with last time.  I kept one, but no one wanted my other boy.  Fortunately we happened upon a lady who doesn't believe that roosters should go in the pot, and she has a little sanctuary with about 40-60 roosters.  I don't feel right though about the possibility of continually giving her roosters because I think chicks are cute and fun to raise.  Someone has to be responsible about all of this.

Harvey Henbanger in all of his glory.

A discussion ensued and we agreed that once the chicks were old enough to sex, the boys would be humanely dealt with, we would keep two hens and the rest could be given away.  That wasn't going to be fun.

A week and a half after Sesame's disappearance, I happened to be looking at some plants not far from our back patio, and spied her hiding spot.  Clever little girl, we walked by there at least once every day and never saw her.  I lifted her up (much to her disgust) and Shawn counted 12 eggs.

Unfortunately Chamois saw her too.

When I got home from work, I was told that the dogs had eaten all of the eggs, and that Sesame was walking around the yard with the rest of the chickens, making a sad sound (yeah, yeah, I'm anthropomorphising again.).  Poor girl, all of that hard work and sacrifice.

So that was our problem solved.  No chicks means no roosters means no unpleasant culling.

I wish they hatched kittens.

Still....chicks.  So much cuteness. But we still have Harvey Henbanger, and he does live up to his last name.  I am quite confident we will go through this process again.  And (hopefully?), we may yet see some chicks.

What my girls think when Harvey gets near them.