When I began picking strawberries from a patch in our garden the other day, the hens were watching my every move.
Three strawberries. Three chickens. It seemed like a match made in hen heaven. So, berries in hand, I wandered over to the pen as “the girls” bounced around excitedly, anticipating a treat.
Hoping to prevent our voracious Plymouth Rock, Snow, from grabbing all of the goodies, I dropped the strawberries into the pen at three separate corners. I figured that would make it easier for each hen to get one strawberry, with a minimum of squabbling.
Yeah, right.
Snow and Nellie, one of our Rhode Island Reds, zeroed in on the same strawberry at precisely the same moment. While they took turns stealing it from each other and running around with berry in beak, Hope, the other Rhode Island Red, munched on a second berry that she had all to herself.
Amid all the scuffling, Snow and Nellie nibbled away at “their” strawberry in fits and starts until, eventually, there was nothing left. That’s when all three hens discovered the one remaining berry, which they quickly disposed of with much possessive squawking, angry flapping and feverish pecking, but no injuries. (Except to the strawberry, of course.)
This no-holds-barred game of chicken soccer wasn’t the most efficient way for three hens to tackle three strawberries. But for the lone human spectator, it was far more entertaining that the alternative I had in mind at the outset.
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