Hen Chronicles: Rub a dub dub, it's a chicken in a tub

Snow

In my 62 years on this planet, the only animals I’ve ever bathed (other than myself) were dogs.

Until yesterday.

That’s when my wife Liz and I got around to giving a bath to our all-white hen, Snow, who had accumulated some, shall we say, deposits on her bum.

Having no experience in the chicken-bathing department, I first did some research, both in books and online. As with so much chicken-related advice, the “experts” offered conflicting tips.

Wrap the chicken’s head and body in a towel before placing her in a tub of water OR skip the towel and hold her in the water with your gloved hands.

Once the hen’s bottom is wet, rub the dirty feathers to clean them OR don’t rub the feathers because you might break or yank them.

After towel drying the chicken’s behind, let the hen air dry outside if it’s a warm, sunny day OR use a hair dryer set on the lowest setting.

Being a cautious sort, I took a conservative approach. Once Liz caught Snow and lowered her into a pan of warm water with Dawn dish washing liquid in it, I dabbed her bottom with a wet sponge (no rubbing or pulling!) for a few minutes. Liz then lifted Snow into a second pan of warm water, for the rinse cycle.

Snow seemed to take all this in stride. There was no squawking, and only a bit of wing flapping early on, until Liz got her hands over both wings, to hold them against Snow's body.

After a gentle towel pat and some fanny time with the hair dryer (which Snow also accepted without a peep), Liz placed Snow and Nala, our other hen, in a freestanding, movable pen, so they could graze on the lawn in the sun for half an hour or so.

Thirty minutes later, “the girls” had become visibly agitated. They obviously were anxious to return to the coop, and I suspected that there was a very good reason. I've read that free-range chickens lay eggs all over the place, but our duo, confined as they normally are to the coop and an attached pen, are accustomed to doing so in their secluded nest box, which is in the coop. Sure enough, only minutes after Liz brought them back "home," I found two still-warm eggs in the nest box.

You can take the chicken out of the coop, but when it comes time to lay an egg, you can’t take the coop out of the chicken.