It was a nice Sunday morning. Crystal and I went out into the backyard to feed the girls some scraps and do a couple of chores. The girls were taking turns in their egg laying mode. One sits in a nesting box, another paces or simply stands and stares at the box occupier. A bit of the old hurry up and wait, hen style.
As the coop emptied, Strawberry went up the ramp looking all the world as if it were her turn. At the top of the ramp she looked in, not at the nesting box, but back into that corner where they had been laying that secret clutch of eggs. . .which Crystal collected Friday afternoon. . .she walked over into the corner and stood there staring into the empty spot where the clutch had been. Then she started wailing loudly. She walked back to the door, looked back and forth, staring at the spot and kept up a plaintive, mourning wail. It was terrible! We picked her up, petted her to no avail. She would not be comforted. When we put her back down, she picked up the wail again. This lasted about ten minutes. Inconsolable.
I never thought of a chicken acting like that.