Floppy the ridiculous hen, may she rest in peace.
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Floppy was a production red (known here as a brown shaver) hen I got with my first set of hens adopted from the lady down the road (also including Boss Lady and Opal, and another brown shaver who is also dead now).
This hen knew who she was. She had personality in spades and was partial to human company and the sneaky food treats that go with people. Floppy managed to win over my reluctant husband to chicken tolerance (he really likes them now, I swear!).
Floppy laid us a lot of eggs, and gave us a lot of laughs. She refused to sleep in the coop with the other hens, resolutely sleeping in a tree no matter the weather. Some nights I was out there in the rain, trying to wrangle her down and into the coop. She did not appreciate my efforts to keep her dry, and would waddle back to the tree at the first possible moment.
She got along with everyone but was a free spirit. I don't know how old she was but I guess she was about 2 years old when I got her. She laid for a few months (through the winter), had her moult, laid for a bit longer, then she got sick. The other brown shaver who came with her had also got sick and died at this point. Floppy got sick a couple of months later. I kept her warm and dry, kept her clean from the runny poop she had, gave her water and food to herself. She rallied for the final week before she passed away, coming out to sit in the sunshine and follow me around the yard.
One day I got home from work and she was laying in the sun. I didn't think too much of it but she was still there an hour later. She had entered the beginning of the end. She was dropping in and out of consciousness and losing control of her nervous system. I wrapped her up in a towel and sat with her. She was taking longer than I expected to die, so we moved her gently away from the run, said our goodbyes and my husband put her out of her misery with a quick point blank shot to the head with an air rifle. It was a hard day, she was a loved member of the flock.
I decided not to get production hybrids again. They are such funny and friendly birds, but their short lives and the suffering they go through at the end just gets me in the feels too hard. None of my other hens showed any sign of even a sniffle when the two brown shavers got sick and died (about 6 weeks apart). One chick did get sick, but he pulled through (and got turned into dinner). I suspect I had blackhead run through the flock.
Floppy a few days before she died, rallying to spend time in the sun.
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Floppy not long after I got her, with the rest of the original girls (the OG's
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. I am a big fan of barred rocks.
as are all of your flock, esp love Skipper.
One is so so social and the other is too but she’s a bit more skittish, they love the chin scratchies though 
