...and just had to start a new thread.bwaymark wrote:Chickens are great, the eggs are out of the world, they taste nice, but they do tend die a lot.
We had four young Scots Grey hens that went into the big pen with the other birds. All went well in terms of the introduction, a bit of pecking but no outright bullying and after a few days I decided it was okay to relax.
But I reckoned without the Fatalistic Chicken.
She was the biggest, darkest and prettiest of the four, and a potential one to breed from.
But after four days in the big pen, it was clear the other hens had had a word with her. You know, "Look love, what are you bouncing around for, big smile on your face, as if you're somebody. All you're going to do is lay bloody big eggs every day for a year or two and when they dry up, thwomp! You're chicken curry. So, cut your cackling and get on with it".
The result? A severe case of chicken depression - hunched down onto her legs, head bent and, if a chicken can have a look, a look of bleakness and despair at her lot.
She wouldn't eat, wouldn't drink and had no apparent physical problems.
No, the Fatalistic Chicken had decided life wasn't worth living and wished herself to death within 24 hours.
The Squabbly Madams are, of course, well pleased with themselves - "sorted 'er out, didn't we", while the Fatalistic Chicken's sisters were just grateful to find the food went a lot further.
We had a cockerel do something similar last year. In his case, he was affronted when we removed three of "his" hens (still had seven) and put them in with another cockerel. He threw a big sulk and the next morning did the stumble of death out the chicken house door - very melodramatic and very effective.
Ah, chickens, you've just go to love 'em!
