Our retirement home for aging chickens is woefully short on the production of eggs right now. One egg per day – total – just isn’t cutting it. It could have something to do with how freaking cold it is here right now (Even my husband is wearing his fingerless mittens today. In the house.) … or that they are all molting. How unfair is it of Mother Nature to cause her sweet hens to drop their feathers on some of the coldest days of the year? The coop is well insulated now with a layer of feathers, but the hens are scraggly, cold and sorry looking.
The plan is to every year or other year add some yearlings to the brood so that the egg production stays level. As hens age, they lay fewer and fewer eggs. And while a true farmer would allocate them to the stew pot, I just can’t do it.
They were precious cargo in the back of our car. Held with great care. Me without my chicken bin lined with hay, but instead with three cooing girlies in the back of the car content to hold them on the way home.
Hoping, generous hens, for a few more than one a day