Mother Nature
Minnie has gone broody.
She has been a little uppity all week, and prone to peck when we look for eggs. Yesterday we realised that she had not emerged from the coop all day.
Cochins are very apt to become broody, so she is living up to the breed.
I have been reading up on how to take care of a broody hen… and it would seem that a little common sense is all that is required. Pretty much the advice is to do just what we had done – lift her out of the nesting box and block her access; make sure that she eats and drinks.
When we did lift her out, we had all the confirmation that was required – a lovely lining to the box of downy feathers from her chest.
She seems practically drugged: we lift her out and pop her on the ground and she stays there, flattened to the ground for quite some time, before getting the message and getting up for a stretch. Yesterday we carried her to the feed and water, but it does seem that she can cope on her own if we leave her be.
After the chooks have finished laying, around lunch time, we close the pop hole so that Minnie cannot get in to the nesting box.
It feels cruel. I’ve been broody myself. I can identify with her need. But we do not want little chicks about the place – it would be too upsetting when the cats got to them… or the gulls, or the hen harrier, or the crows, or the rats or… Well, their chances would not be good.
minnie
... Minnie legging it to the coop to check on things after we had finished poking our noses into her business
flock
Dennis and the rest of the girls rooting around the top end of the garden while we cleaned the coop...
We have just cleaned the coop out. Dennis and his harem took off to explore the far reaches of the top garden. Minnie hovered around us anxiously, then legged it back to the coop as soon as we were safely out of her way. Sadly, she could not get in to check the place over.
It looks now as though Ena is following suit in the maternal stakes.
Mother Nature, she’s a cruel mistress.
