It's true. We love our chickens. They make good pets, and they make us breakfast, too. And my man loves having a good, hearty breakfast of eggs. Me? I'm a syrup kind of gal. Pancakes, waffles, French toast. Yum. Give me sugar first thing in the morning, and I'm happy. But even so, we need to have eggs.
That's why it's been upsetting lately that our chickens have gone on strike. The ladies refuse to lay. I;m not exactly sure what is going on, but I suspect it is a combination of issues: the watering-boy took a break from getting the birds clean water daily, we ran out of official feed and gave them whole grains, the days are getting shorter, and one hen went broody. She sits in the nesting box all day, trying to hatch two golf balls, and clucks at anyone else who disturbs her.
Gotta fix this problem. Trent actually had to buy eggs from the store. No space for freeloaders here! So we changed the water-boy. Got more feed for laying hens. Partitioned off the broody hen (with a chicken noodle soup box - subliminal messages) so the others have access to the nesting box. And we sprinkled cayenne pepper in their food. Some say it will kick-start their systems.
Man. It would sure kick-start something in me, too. But they really liked it.
And now we wait. One egg yesterday. Three eggs today. Things are looking up. Maybe it was good that we didn't make a giant pot of chicken soup back when we first got frustrated with the girls.