How old is she? Sydney was only 9 months old when she started setting her nest. Is she younger than that or is my Sydney an overachiever?

PS (Is it setting or sitting?)
I can't remember Bob. I would have to look it up.
It depends on whether you speak English or American and how you interpret the words for the actions.
A hen sets her eggs in order to sit on them. She sits on her eggs in order to hatch them. The set eggs she sits on is called a clutch.;)
 
In the end, I talked myself into trying a hatch one day, so perhaps Ivy will be the one to do it. It took a lot of thinking but I eventually saw myself as complicit in ending the lives of young cockerels because I only buy pullets. So it makes no difference if I take home-hatched cockerels to the vet to be put to sleep, except they'll have been cared for, kept safe as possible and will never have known hunger. On the other hand, it makes a big difference if I can find them a proper home. So a hatch is on the cards.
Are you allowed roosters MJ?
 
I had a bag of mixed nuts , dried fruits and seeds that I never got around to finishing.

Shad's talk of walnuts made me think of them. I offer them to the girls but hit them with half a brick first to break them up ....the nuts! Not the girls!
Best not to feed them Almonds.
The thing is with walnuts here at least is they grow here and the chickens will get some that fall from the trees. The shells get broken by other creatures.
Walnuts are a soft nut and this seems to make them more appealing.
I don't feed anything whole here. I chop or break everything. If you've ever had to prise food out of the throat of a choking chicken you'll understand why.
 
I can't remember Bob. I would have to look it up.
It depends on whether you speak English or American and how you interpret the words for the actions.
A hen sets her eggs in order to sit on them. She sits on her eggs in order to hatch them. The set eggs she sits on is called a clutch.;)
Exactly!
 
Bing Bong! You are spot on Lozzy!

Most people haven't even heard of them :D

We had a Cornish Rex for a couple of years when I was a teenager. His name was Baxter and he had the most beautiful nature. He and another cat called Cyber (or Sibur as my mum spelt it) belonged to a friend of my mum who went to America for a couple of years, so she gave them to us. She had a property and one night someone was spotlight-shooting on her property. Baxter walked into the spotlight and got shot. He lived but he had shrapnel in his body. One night we think he jumped off a fence and a piece of shrapnel shifted and killed kim. He was so lovely-natured, and so soft. :(
 

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