Henny Penny

Broody, Not Moody

A couple days ago, I went to my chicken pen and lifted the hinged lid of the coop.  I looked in before reaching to gather the eggs, and saw a hen still sitting in one of the nest boxes.  She didn’t stir when I reached under her to check for eggs.

She didn’t even move.

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I generally check on my chickens at least once a day.  Of course, I gather the eggs, but I also check to be sure they are not running short on water or food.  I usually stop by the machine shed on the way. There I pour a cup of scratch grains into the plastic coffee container before heading back out to the pen.

My little flock has their eyes on me as soon as I round the barn and they catch sight of me.  They know what I’m doing.  The big, red rooster clucks to his girls, telling them that I’m coming and probably bringing scratch.  He doesn’t have to tell them as they’ve been watching me too.

I call softly to them and toss the scratch over the sides of the pen, but close to the fence so they have to come close to me to get the treats.  That encourages them to get used to having me close, so they don’t get all shook up if I have to enter the pen with them.

As my little flock enjoys the grain, I count them.  The rooster is easy; there’s only one.  The hens move around constantly as they jockey for the best place to eat.  I count them, “One, two, three…ten.  Hmmm, where is the eleventh?”

I’m not too concerned as it’s not all that uncommon for me to catch one of the girls laying an egg in the coop.  Once I open the lid to gain access to the three nest-boxes, any hen inside usually vacates the nest and the coop.  I’m not worried, as she’ll come back as soon as I close the lid.

But that day was different.

Henny Penny didn’t move.

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I gathered the eggs in the other nest boxes to give her a chance to either lay the egg or decide she could wait, and exit the coop.  Hey, I don’t want to be rude to the girls whose lifetime goal is to keep us in half-a-breakfast.

But she didn’t move…at all.

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I could tell she was alive because her head was up, but she didn’t even cluck in frustration at my intrusion…like she was in some strange mood, or maybe hypnotized.  Then I looked at her eyes.

There have been a few times when I’ve caught a hen totally committed to laying her daily egg.  She would be so totally engrossed in squeezing out a hen-fruit that she lost all interest in running away from my touch. 

When hens are like that, I can reach under them and they will sometimes drop the egg in my hand.  Then, and only then, they would leave, clucking their indignation at my intrusion.

But when they were too far along in the process of laying an egg to vacate the nest, I could always tell it by looking at their eyes.  The girl would have a preoccupied look, like she wasn’t totally aware of my presence, like she was concentrating on something.

Henny Penny didn’t have that look in her eyes.

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First, I need to confess that I hadn’t named her Henny Penny before…well, I had the idea to write this post.  I have gotten far away from any need to name my chickens.  That doesn’t mean I “dehumanize” them or don’t care about their welfare.  I just don’t name them.

They don’t seem to mind.

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So it was with interest that I read the look in her eyes and realized that she wasn’t laying an egg.  I stroked her copper-colored feathers and she reacted by twitching just the least little bit, so little that I couldn’t have told it if I wasn’t watching close.

That verified what I thought was going on.

She wasn’t just moody, she was broody.

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“Broody,” means a hen is in a motherly mood.  She will assemble a clutch of eggs, and doesn’t care if she laid them or someone else did.  Once she gets a few eggs under her, she stops worrying about anything except setting her eggs.  Yes, I said, “setting,” not “sitting on.”  When a hen is trying to hatch a clutch of eggs, she sits on them and that is called “setting.” 

Don’t ask me why, I didn’t make the rules.

Anyway, a broody hen will only get off the nest to eat, drink, and “relieve herself,” quickly, then it’s right back on the nest for her.  A broody hen will commit totally to setting her nest.  After 21 days, the eggs will start to hatch.  Often, the only way to know they are hatching successfully, at least at first, is to hear the tiny, “peep, peep, peep” of the newly hatched chicks.

After a couple more days, momma will get off the nest and successfully hatched chicks will follow her, leaving their broken shells and unsuccessful eggs in the nest for me to clean up.

The chicks will stay near momma for a while.  If they venture too far away, or she senses danger, she’ll cluck and they will all run back to her, where she can protect them.  Over a period of days or weeks, the chicks will venture farther and farther.  Eventually, hen and chicks forget about their relationship and go on about their lives.

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Why was I so interested that Henny Penny was setting a clutch?  Although, even as early as the first years of the twentieth century it wasn’t uncommon for hens to get broody, egg factories and hatcheries have been working hard breeding the natural impulse out of them.  Why?  Hens stop laying after they put together a clutch and egg factories are in the business of selling eggs, not hatching chicks.  Hatcheries want buyers to buy chicks, not produce their own replacement flocks, just trading roosters with their neighbors to prevent inbreeding.  They couldn’t sell as many chicks if they did that.

Chicken owners have added to that by “breaking-up” any of their hens who did get broody.  A broody hen who has been successfully broken-up, will stop trying to set and start laying again.

Many folks now, who keep a flock of chickens around for meat or eggs, will tell you that they’ve never seen a broody hen.

Even when my mom was a girl (1920s and ‘30s) it wasn’t uncommon for her parents to let broody hens set a clutch to provide the family with more chickens.  Mom told me that broody hens would set anything that felt like a chicken egg under her, even smooth rocks, doorknobs, or “nest eggs” (artificial eggs put in nest boxes to entice free range hens to lay in them rather than under brush or in weedy spots).  She told me she remembered her parents putting some duck eggs under a broody hen and letting her hatch them out.  The only problem occurred when the new mom took her hatchlings out for a walk and they saw a puddle.  The ducklings would jump in and start swimming around as the hen would fret and worry that her babies were going to drown, clucking out her concern.

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Excluding hatching a bunch of duck eggs, there is nothing so amazing and heart-warming as watching a hen with her new chicks.  To the untrained eye she might look like she is ignoring her brood, but a keen eye will observe the opposite, a caring, attentive mother who calls her chicks to her in the event of danger or bad weather.  She will also call them when she finds food, especially a nice, juicy worm or other bug for them to eat.

You can see why I am pleased that Henny Penny is broody.  Next week is when some of our grandkids will be here for “kids’ week” and the eggs won’t hatch until the week after they leave, at least they will get to see her setting the nest.

At least they will get to see her being broody, not moody.

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