Some aspects of chicken keeping are more pleasant than others. Giving our three hens a pat on the back as they emerge from the coop each morning is more enjoyable than, say, the task that follows: depooping the coop.
By contrast, there’s rarely a downside to watching “the girls” as they go about their business in the pen. They’re beautiful (except while molting), comical (virtually all of the time) and intriguing (as all birds are, perhaps because they are so unlike us).
But every once in a while, Snow, Nellie and Hope do something that I find especially endearing. Such was the case this morning, when they had breakfast.
Before I release the hens from the coop, I scatter feed in the pen, and leave some in their bowl. Normally, the chickens go their separate ways, munching from the ground or the bowl, in relative isolation from one another.
Today, though, they all gathered at the feed bowl simultaneously, with the all-white Snow in the center, flanked by Rhode Island Reds Nellie and Hope. Wing to wing. Practically beak to beak. Pecking at warp speed. It was the sisterhood of the hungry hens.
By contrast, there’s rarely a downside to watching “the girls” as they go about their business in the pen. They’re beautiful (except while molting), comical (virtually all of the time) and intriguing (as all birds are, perhaps because they are so unlike us).
But every once in a while, Snow, Nellie and Hope do something that I find especially endearing. Such was the case this morning, when they had breakfast.
Before I release the hens from the coop, I scatter feed in the pen, and leave some in their bowl. Normally, the chickens go their separate ways, munching from the ground or the bowl, in relative isolation from one another.
Today, though, they all gathered at the feed bowl simultaneously, with the all-white Snow in the center, flanked by Rhode Island Reds Nellie and Hope. Wing to wing. Practically beak to beak. Pecking at warp speed. It was the sisterhood of the hungry hens.
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