Broody Biddy

Roo wants to hatch an egg. We come home from vacation and suddenly she's keeping herself in the coop, sitting on the eggs of her compatriots, and just waiting. It's a hormonal thing. A bird can be perfectly happy to abandon her eggs every day for however long and then suddenly feel the uncontrollable urge to sit on a clutch and wait. She stops laying eggs. She just waits on the ones she finds.

Oh, Roo. I cannot mock your desire to nurture a brood. I have been there, chickie.

But Roo, you're not laying eggs. In another month or so, all of you chickie ladies will begin to molt* and then NONE of you will be laying eggs until spring. I am faced with a choice. Are you a pet, Roo? Or are you a means to an end?

I don't need pets.
I don't want pets.
I don't nurture lives just for fun.
I'm quite selfish that way.

But Roo, I like you. I like you best in the flock. You are the most pet-like of them all. I would consider feeding and caring for you all winter if only to have your personality around a little longer. With good care, you could live another 3-4 years! But I don't want to keep the rest of your flock unless they're laying eggs. I've pretty much decided that they have to go once the molt begins.

But one chicken gets awfully lonely on her own. And the owners of that lonely chicken get a little weird. I've seen it. Don't want it.

So sit on those eggs, dear Roo. I know you can't help it. I don't like to admit it even to myself, but your days are numbered. And your last day with me won't be an easy day for me, but I think that's a good thing. I don't want death to become easy for me...unless it's the death of a Japanese Beetle. Mwah ha ha haaaaaaaa.

*molt: "to shed old feathers, hair, or skin, or an old shell, to make way for a new growth, especially as a regular feature of an animal's life cycle." (thank you, Google)