It’s been a while since I’ve written about
the doings of my Henriettas and that is because they are so darn naughty they
are this close from going to the Colonel.
That’s right, they have no shame whatsoever. When I come into the coop at 6:30 a.m. they
are lined up on their roosts, with their noses almost up the butts of their
nesting sisters, just waiting for the egg to drop. They don’t even pretend to move when I enter
nor do they look the least little bit ashamed.
I try to get in three or four times in the
next two hours and I manage to salvage about half of the production. I’ve tried every cure known to chicken
keepers; cabbages, mustard in broken eggs, quarantine. I’ve used psychology, shaming, berating. Nothing avails. So now I have decided to play the waiting
game. Waiting for the sun to return so
they can be shooed outside as soon as the sun comes up.
Despite their bad behavior the girls
continue to amuse me. They are so oblivious
of their own wrong-doing and go about their business like the busy little girls
they are. Watching nature at work is
something to smile about.
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