Hen Chronicles: Shielding chickens from snow in February?

I screwed up the other day. I knew better, so I have no excuse. In any case, “the girls” quickly put me on notice that I had laid an egg, so to speak.

One night last week, the weather forecast called for snow flurries. Knowing how much our three hens hate snow, I normally cover their wire-and-wood pen with a tarp when the dreaded white stuff is in the offing. But I forgot to do so that night, and when I went out to release the chickens from their coop at dawn the next morning, a dusting of snow covered the ground in the pen.

This caused consternation. Much consternation. Feathers were ruffled, and not in the metaphorical sense.

When I unlatched the coop door, Snow and Nellie stuck their heads out but refused to walk down the ramp into the pen, even though breakfast awaited them there. Eventually, Snow literally flew the coop, bypassing the ramp entirely. Nellie followed suit, becoming airborne as well.

I assume their thinking was that if they avoided the ramp by taking wing, they could find a snow-free spot on which to set down. But because there was snow throughout the pen, this bit of chicken logic did not produce the desired outcome.

The aptly named Snow, an all-white Plymouth Rock known for her voracious appetite and flamboyant personality, landed in the snow and immediately headed over to the feed bowl, having decided that hunger trumped all weather-related obstacles. Nellie handled things differently. As soon as she touched down, she made a beeline back to the coop. And Hope, our third hen? She stayed put in the coop, where it was nice and dry.

What to do?

I have a long-handled brush in the garage, which I used to move the snow away from the food and water bowls. Sure enough, once the snow had been brushed aside in that section of the pen, Nellie and Hope sauntered down the ramp and had their breakfast. By that time, Snow was full and had retreated into the coop.

From time to time, I spot photos online of chickens gamely trudging through several inches of snow on their way to or from their coop or barn. They never look apprehensive or frightened or disgusted, just determined. I’ve thought of showing these pics to our girls, to help them overcome their phobia.

But chickens are not very amenable to persuasion, so that might be a frustrating experience. I’ll probably have better luck if I just remember to cover the pen whenever it’s supposed to snow. After all, the hens do have me well-trained.