Chicken Little

My neighbor had given me some fertile eggs from his chickens (since we don't have a rooster), and I stuck them under my hen that had gone broody. Broody hen is a hen that fluffs up her feathers and sits on the nest looking like an exploded porcupine and clucks at you like get the hell away from me, I'm trying to be a mother. Even when she has no eggs under her. I decided to put some eggs under her that she could hatch, since it would be okay if she didn't lay any for awhile (they stop laying when they sit on the nest to hatch eggs). I had way too many eggs since all my hens are laying right now, I have 3 and half dozen as of this morning. So anyone who needs an omelete or wants to make a good casserole, stop on by I'll load you up.

But back to the silver grey hen that is sitting on the nest. I kept checking every day to see if the eggs were hatched even though I knew it takes 21 days or something. After about a week, one of the eggs was missing, so I decided a rat must've gotten it so I moved her to a safer old bunny hutch in the Chicken Protection Program (she's my first client) and she's been sitting in there. Nathan and I tried "candling" one of the eggs to see if there's a chick growing in there, and that consists of getting the egg, and jamming yourself and your 13 year old into the dog food closet and closing the door and then putting the egg in a tube of paper and holding a flashlight under it to see if you can see through it somehow. We couldn't see crap, and luckily I was there to tell Nathan that we shouldn't try a match because the paper would burn and then we'd set the house on fire.

But then 2 days ago there was a broken egg under the hen and we opened it and there was a folded up, nestled little chick inside (un-alive), but it was so fascinating that we grew something just by sticking it under the fat fluffy butt of our stubborn chicken! The little chick had her feet all folded neatly up by her face, the way babies do - stuffed in a small spot and bent at impossible angles. Was really remarkable and amazing. But there was no funeral. Just the trashcan. Coldhearted farm life. But then I knew we had grown something and I hoped there were more little chicks that might make it through the re-entry heat without cracking up.

Last night I went out and when I lifted up my hen there were the smooth cylindrical eggs nestled and then I heard a little "peep!" A cute litte yellow chick and a broken shell. This morning there was the fluffy guy still under there and a new wet brother just hatched and looking like he'd been through the tiniest car wash.

So I moved the hen into the henhouse with her four unhatched eggs and her two babies, so she'd have more room and we'd have better access to view our new little family. After looking up backyardchicken.net to make sure it's okay to move mother hens. (As I'm sure you all check backyardchicken daily.)

There's something earthily gratifying about putting a cold hard egg under a hen and a few weeks later seeing a tiny little chick under there. That one thing can turn into the other thing is still the universe's greatest trick.