I have a crazy broody Bantam Cochin that failed to finish her job on egg number seven. She left it in the cold so under the heat lamp the BF put it (no moisture, the novice)... so I get home from work and the membrane is dry and the poor thing can't bust through. I broke all the rules and peeled that egg like it was boiled. Slid out in my hand and I became her surrogate mother. Coolest little chicken in the world - her name was Nighthorse. Had a funny curved beak (not scissored, just a bit bent) and was a little arm jumper. Shortly after moving the group to the little's coop, a hawk killed her through the wire in a covered run. I was/continue to be beyond bummed. Of course, the favorite goes first every time. I still miss that funny little chicken.
My point? I have none... maybe just pulling off a TINY piece of shell...
My point? I have none... maybe just pulling off a TINY piece of shell...