- Sep 25, 2012
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Recently I thought my (7 year old!) hen Lala was sick. I called on my generous neighbor who is a vet to check her out. Turns out Lala was only getting ready to go "broody" and was feeling pretty hormonal. In my concern for her health I realize I just gave her one of the worst days of her life - pursued and manhandled all while experiencing the hen equivalent of PMS or morning sickness. It's the least I can do to publish her point of view for that day.
Here, then, is Chicken Jones's Diary:
Tuesday 4 August
Weight: 3.5 lbs, potentially fermented apples eaten: 4, announcements about eggs laid: 27.3, glares and pecks to maintain pecking order: 35
Food consumed today: 8½ bugs requisitioned from subordinate hens, 6 ounces of Payback Organic Layer Feed, 12 crop stones, 6 earthworms, 5 ounces fresh dirt
5 p.m.
After 10 consecutive days of ovulation, the tall ugly rooster releases us into the backyard at the moment my hormones kick in to tell me it’s time to hatch those eggs. Ugh.
Like most expecting mothers, I feel flush, nauseated, sluggish and emotional. I half-close my eyes and fantasize about lying in a fresh dust bath being tenderly beak fed grapes and grubs by a luxuriously feathered rooster.
Instead the subordinates rush eagerly around the yard, eating as fast as they can. I must stay on top of them or they’ll eat more than me and forget who’s in charge. My thoughts on the dust bath, I reluctantly follow.
5:35 p.m. What’s this? The tall ugly rooster with no feathers brings a huge pile of sunflower seeds. We all gobble it down, but the feathers on the back of my neck stand up. Could this be a trap? No time to consider it – must eat more than the subordinates! Eat, eat, glare; eat, eat, peck a subordinate. I find my rhythm and almost forget my nausea, but never that feathered rooster…
5:40 p.m. Another ugly rooster is here! I’ve seen this one before… Oh no, they’re both after me! I know I’m a hot chick, but I’m definitely not in the mood. I jog and dart, I blind them with a flurry of wing feathers. I run into a secure looking ally only to be trapped and grabbed by the new ugly rooster. The subordinates look on. My stomach churns. “Baaaawk offfff,” I protest.
5:50 p.m. I escape the ugly rooster only to be immediately hen pecked by a subordinate. What betrayal is this?! After all I’ve done for her? Her beak still full of my feathers, I have to teach her a lesson. I swear like a warbler and wattle-smack her.
Cluck this day.
6:00 p.m. I give up on the lot of them. Subordinates frolicking in the evening sun, I tuck myself into the straw and lose myself in a dream. This time the feathered rooster has chocolate.
Here, then, is Chicken Jones's Diary:
Tuesday 4 August
Weight: 3.5 lbs, potentially fermented apples eaten: 4, announcements about eggs laid: 27.3, glares and pecks to maintain pecking order: 35
Food consumed today: 8½ bugs requisitioned from subordinate hens, 6 ounces of Payback Organic Layer Feed, 12 crop stones, 6 earthworms, 5 ounces fresh dirt
5 p.m.
After 10 consecutive days of ovulation, the tall ugly rooster releases us into the backyard at the moment my hormones kick in to tell me it’s time to hatch those eggs. Ugh.
Like most expecting mothers, I feel flush, nauseated, sluggish and emotional. I half-close my eyes and fantasize about lying in a fresh dust bath being tenderly beak fed grapes and grubs by a luxuriously feathered rooster.
Instead the subordinates rush eagerly around the yard, eating as fast as they can. I must stay on top of them or they’ll eat more than me and forget who’s in charge. My thoughts on the dust bath, I reluctantly follow.
5:35 p.m. What’s this? The tall ugly rooster with no feathers brings a huge pile of sunflower seeds. We all gobble it down, but the feathers on the back of my neck stand up. Could this be a trap? No time to consider it – must eat more than the subordinates! Eat, eat, glare; eat, eat, peck a subordinate. I find my rhythm and almost forget my nausea, but never that feathered rooster…
5:40 p.m. Another ugly rooster is here! I’ve seen this one before… Oh no, they’re both after me! I know I’m a hot chick, but I’m definitely not in the mood. I jog and dart, I blind them with a flurry of wing feathers. I run into a secure looking ally only to be trapped and grabbed by the new ugly rooster. The subordinates look on. My stomach churns. “Baaaawk offfff,” I protest.
5:50 p.m. I escape the ugly rooster only to be immediately hen pecked by a subordinate. What betrayal is this?! After all I’ve done for her? Her beak still full of my feathers, I have to teach her a lesson. I swear like a warbler and wattle-smack her.
Cluck this day.
6:00 p.m. I give up on the lot of them. Subordinates frolicking in the evening sun, I tuck myself into the straw and lose myself in a dream. This time the feathered rooster has chocolate.
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