This blog is a bit of a soap opera. If you’re not in from the very beginning, there are things you’re just not going to get. Sorry about that. It’s how we roll here.
To get the full impact of today’s news, for example, you’ll have to be a long-time reader. If it seems like much ado about nothing, I understand. So…drumroll, please:
Trixie laid an egg.
I KNOW. I stood there, staring at it for a full five minutes before I allowed myself to believe it. I hadn’t seen one in so long, I had to really strain my memory.
For those of you shaking your heads in bewilderment, Trixie, who is 21 months old, and in the theoretical prime of her laying life, has not laid a proper egg in over ten months. MONTHS, people. Oh, she’s squatted, and nested, and cried about her lack of fecundity, and she’s laid about a dozen fart eggs over the course of those ten months. But not a single “real” egg.
Why? No one knows. I have a broken chicken. HAD a broken chicken.
I had all but given her up as a permanent freeloader, but I had one, lonely, forlorn hope: that after her first molt, her eggmaker might reset. It was a long shot, a very long shot, but I clung to it.
When the 1.0 hens began to molt, one by one, breed by breed, I waited. Trixie was the last, save Abby, to molt. Her blond feathers came back in gorgeously, and she began to squat. She even began to nest and cry loudly about nesting, but I was not fooled; I’d jumped at those cues all last summer, and for naught. Trixie had always tried, and tried hard. She just always left the nest empty. I could tell she was upset about it, too. Really. it was impossible to be angry with her about it. I found myself consoling her.
This morning, in the midst a distressing dry run, egg-wise, it was a genuine pleasure to hear Trixie and Coraline yell at Scarlet for taking up The Hideaway. At last, I thought, some healthy laying competition. I may get some eggs today.
I returned to the nest an hour later expecting a Scarlet or a Coraline egg, or to find the two of them yelling at a nesting Trixie, who, in her determination to produce, can take up the nest for the better part of a day. The egg I found was too oblong to be a Coraline (her eggs are very nearly spherical), and too light in colour to be a Scarlet. I stared. I considered. I scoffed. I considered again.
A Trixie egg. A veritable Trixie egg. And an extra large, to boot. I am PLOTZING, people.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go open it, to see if the Anti-Christ is inside…