Hen Chronicles: Yup, chickens have personalities too

Miss Personality

Anyone who has lived with a cat or a dog can attest to the fact that our four-legged friends have individual personalities. What may be less obvious to most people is that the feathered set does as well.

That certainly is true of our four hens. But none of them illustrates the point more strongly than Snow, our Plymouth Rock, who has been with us now since April of last year.

Snow is the bossiest, noisiest, most animated member of our quartet, protesting loudly if a mere human has the audacity to show up anywhere near the pen without snacks in hand.

She is the most demanding of the four when it comes to food, flapping her wings and even trying to escape through a narrow opening at the top of the pen if it takes Liz or myself too long to distribute treats.

She is by far the most alert and assertive of our hens if anyone throws a tasty worm into the pen. Almost without fail, she catches every worm that comes their way, frustrating the other hens no end.

Snow lays the largest eggs in our tiny flock, and she is the most troublesome of the bunch in that department, having become egg bound a while back. That is a potentially fatal condition in which a hen has an egg in transit but cannot manage to lay it, although in Snow’s case human intervention, her own persistence and a bit of luck saved the day.

I was reminded of Snow’s unique status yet again when I went out to the coop just before dawn Thursday morning to release the hens into the pen and feed them. Without fail, “the girls” troop into the coop at dusk and demand to be let out at dawn, but I was surprised to hear squawking and complaining when I got out there Thursday morning, because it was still dark out.

It struck me as odd that the hens were chafing at the beak before the sun rose. And it would have been odd, had it been true.

A closer look revealed that only one hen - Snow - was bouncing up and down at the window on the front of the coop, wailing mournfully as if she’d been stuck in there for a week. When I unlatched and opened the door, Snow was the only hen who ran down the ramp. About 30 seconds later, I heard Nala, Hope and Nellie hop down from the roost to the floor of the coop, meaning they were still asleep - or at least not yet up - while Snow was making her “let me outta here” display.