Bob's gone broody!

When Jeff and I headed out to the back 40 (i.e., out our back door), we did a chicken headcount and found that little Bob was missing. No big deal...clearly egg-laying time. Only she was still missing a half-hour later. And a half-hour after that. We cracked the nest box door to make sure she was there. She was.

I started to fret. Did she have an egg stuck? Was she just taking a long time to take care of business? Or had she gone broody?

We gave it a little more time before I sent Jeff back in (since he was working on the path around the chicken coop...I was up on the deck trying to wrangle our out-of-control wisteria). I heard this hideous high pitched shriek (from little Bob, not from Jeff). When he tried to touch her a second time, she growled at him and tried to peck him. This from the sweetest chicken on earth.

I went over and attempted to play chicken whisperer. She really looked like she was brooding, and not like she was in any discomfort (thank goodness). "You poor sweet chicken. I know you just want to be a mama, but you have to get up." She softly clucked at me, but made no move to unnest herself.

I fretted more, and did some research, and decided we had to get her off those eggs. I pleaded with Jeff to be the muscle while I made a grab for eggs. He did a great job...quick and purposeful, like pulling off a Band-Aid. Soon Bob was out in the run with the rest of the ladies, eating and drinking and having a good ol' dustbath with Coco and Marmalade (while Miss Buttons bonded with the feeder, as usual).

Shortly before dark, we noticed Bob was the only chicken missing again. And she is NEVER the first chicken to go to bed. Yep, on the nest again, even though there were no eggs to sit on. Looks like I'll have my work cut out for me to break her of this habit.