As I mentioned previously, I have no car for the next few days, which means I’m housebound. To many, this would be unbearable. To me, it is heaven.
I have a long list of barn and coop chores to accomplish in this time, first of which was to clean the barn floor. In extreme weather, our girls make extensive use of the barn as shelter, and 2.0 loves to hang out in the barn on the concrete floor in the middle of the day.
This is great. I know where they are, and they are safe from hawks. However. Chickens, in case you didn’t know., poop. A lot. Poop attracts flies and, lordy, lordy, it has been fly-apalooza in the barn.
I do my best to keep the fly strips fresh and clean the barn floor once or twice a week, first scraping the poop (and Haley’s miscarriages) with a small rake, then sweeping.
All this to say, I was witness this morning when Miss Buffy decided to get into The Hideaway. I held my breath in anticipation.
Why? you might well ask. Why would I not shoo her away from the nest, worried she might be returning to broodiness? Because when I approached her, she didn’t fluff or posture or growl. She squatted. It’s over. She’s ready to lay again.
Eggs, people; EGGS!!!
I was ridiculously excited. I have been through this with Buffy three times now: the first time she laid as a pullet, the first time she laid after her injury, and now.
She nested in The Hideaway for a few minutes, as I kept a close eye on her. At about the five-minute mark, she reached over, and carefully billed Coraline’s recently-laid egg underneath her. About a minute later, she stood up and began several vociferous choruses of the egg song, announcing “her” egg. She was so proud of herself. It was charming.
I have posted a short clip of Buffy’s announcement on the Heedley’s Hens Facebook Page.
So, she’s not actually laying yet, but she wants to, and that’s half the battle.