Miss Broody Sets a Record, Part 2!

Well, that new development in the coop I mentioned last time...

I discovered Miss Broody was actually sleeping on the roost instead of in the nest. It had to mean a big change: her broodiness was on the wane.

 Whatever the future held for her, she had definitely set a record for the longest broody period by far of any of our hens.

 The following morning, I briefly saw her outside in her caged run, hanging out on the big leaf maple stump. She was off her nest! Now that was a reason to celebrate!

 Her outdoor play time didn’t last long, but as the days went by, she began to spend longer periods outside the coop. Then one day, she appeared in the run first thing in the morning. And stayed outside until sundown—like a normal hen!

 Suddenly, she was powering down the feed, and was scratching the ground constantly, like a laying hen ought to. Our previously languishing Miss Broody had a whole new lease on life.

 I let myself hope she would start laying again.

 Each day, when I came to take care of her, she was practically pushing on the door to get out of the run and into the yard. She was pecking at clover and other greens like never before, and still emptying her feeder regularly too.

Yet what was entirely new was her feisty-ness: whenever I opened the gate to the chicken yard, this previously retiring little girl would actually try to escape into the woods!

And she was molting like crazy. As I’ve mentioned on my Little Farm blog, molting is a normal, cyclical process: a hen loses a lot of feathers while her reproductive system takes a break. It had been many months since Miss Broody had molted, and now, there were feathers everywhere.

Piles of blond fluff all around the run. Inside the coop, I had to yard the feathers out by the bucketful. She was definitely setting another record, this time for the most epic hen molt ever.

All I could think was, who is this chicken? And what happened to Miss Broody?

After several days of marveling at all the feathers she was losing without going bald, I noticed her molting dialing down. The next time I entered the coop to clean it, there was a surprise.

A small egg lying on the platform beneath the roost! Her first egg in months! 

However, Miss Broody must have forgotten what the nest boxes were for. So I moved the egg to one of the nests, to give her a clue, and left it there.

Two days later, I found a second egg. Right alongside her first one. So apparently the whole nest thing had come back to her.

And thus began Miss Broody’s egg laying marathon… First it was two eggs in four days, then three in a four-day period. Then seven eggs in eight days!

Her eggs started out on the small side—not quite as small as a pullet egg, but little. But they’ve gradually gotten larger. We filled one empty egg carton, and we’ve started on a second. Miss Broody has never laid with this much regularity before—almost daily.

And come to think of it, not one of our Buff Orpington flock ever laid as consistently as this, not even in their first, vigorous months of laying.

With all this champion egg production, we’ve stopped calling the hen Miss Broody. “Let’s call her Missy,” I said to John.

"Missy it is," he agreed.

It’s so rewarding to see this girl living a “henny” life again. And with organic eggs running from $6-$8 a dozen at the Co-op, it’s especially gratifying to have homegrown eggs.

I know all good things must come to an end. But for now, John and I are enjoying having a happy, productive hen at Berryridge Farm!