Hello, all! I've just had an encounter with one of my pullets that I wanted to share with you. Please enjoy
So at my house, we have a large, thick blanket of English ivy on the back of our garage that has been there for years and years and years. Periodically we have to rip parts of the ivy off of the garage to control it and keep it from eating the bricks. Well, the chickens have decided that they like to hang out in said ivy and lay eggs, as it is nice and cool and very protected. That was fine with me, once I found the two spots where they were hiding eggs. A little difficult to get into, sure, but I could deal with it.
Now, my bedroom window is near the garage, so I can usually hear when someone starts singing the egg song. And lately, I have heard my Exchequer Leghorn, Chelsea, cackling quite a bit. She is always orbiting that ivy, it seems. I've found a white egg once in a while, but the rest of the eggs were colored, so I thought she must just be going off because she saw someone else's eggs.
Yesterday and today, I have heard her singing out there a LOT. No eggs, except for one brown and one blue, both yesterday. It was starting to drive me crazy. I figured that Chelsea must have a new hiding place, since she is my rebel and usually is the instigator for finding new, clever laying spots. So I went outside, sat down and waited until Chelsea waltzed back into the ivy. Sure enough, I hear her cackling after a minute, as if she's in on the funniest joke ever. I get up, go over and bend down to see into where she is, and see her sitting up on top of some kind of folded-over tarp/canopy thing waaay back in the vines and right up against the bricks.
"Uh oh," says I. "Chelsea, you'd better not be laying back there. That's playing dirty."
Chelsea blinks demurely and jumps down behind the tarp. For a bigger chicken, it wouldn't have worked, but Chelsea is a petite girl and was quite capable of getting back there, as it turns out. Alright, well, whatever. That's so far back that I can't even get into the ivy enough to see behind the tarp, but I don't have a choice. So, here I am worming my way into a bunch of old ivy and spiderwebs (shiver, don't-think-about-it!) in my pajamas, no less, with Chelsea walking around and laughing at me, as if to say, "You'll never find them all!"
I stick my hand behind the tarp. Yep, there's a nice, warm egg right there. And a couple of cool ones under it. I pull them out, then stick my hand back there to make sure I got them all. There were more eggs. Enough that I didn't have enough room in my hands to carry them. Ooookay, so I take the seven eggs I've just collected into the house, grab my hat for carrying, and come back out to retrieve what's left. Chelsea is still laughing. And by now, I'm laughing, too. I just cannot believe what I've found.
Do you want to know what was back there? 27 eggs!! And 25 of them were Chelsea's! Holy cow, girl! At least now I know you've been laying!
She must have found this spot right after I busted her last one in the huge bridal wreath we have. And I'm sure that she's going to find another devious spot, now that I've raided her hoard.
So here I sit, scratched to heck with vine debris in my hair and all over me, but I'm feeling pretty good. Because Chelsea's not laughing anymore. I'm the one laughing. Ha ha, Chelsea. Stuck it to ya!
So at my house, we have a large, thick blanket of English ivy on the back of our garage that has been there for years and years and years. Periodically we have to rip parts of the ivy off of the garage to control it and keep it from eating the bricks. Well, the chickens have decided that they like to hang out in said ivy and lay eggs, as it is nice and cool and very protected. That was fine with me, once I found the two spots where they were hiding eggs. A little difficult to get into, sure, but I could deal with it.
Now, my bedroom window is near the garage, so I can usually hear when someone starts singing the egg song. And lately, I have heard my Exchequer Leghorn, Chelsea, cackling quite a bit. She is always orbiting that ivy, it seems. I've found a white egg once in a while, but the rest of the eggs were colored, so I thought she must just be going off because she saw someone else's eggs.
Yesterday and today, I have heard her singing out there a LOT. No eggs, except for one brown and one blue, both yesterday. It was starting to drive me crazy. I figured that Chelsea must have a new hiding place, since she is my rebel and usually is the instigator for finding new, clever laying spots. So I went outside, sat down and waited until Chelsea waltzed back into the ivy. Sure enough, I hear her cackling after a minute, as if she's in on the funniest joke ever. I get up, go over and bend down to see into where she is, and see her sitting up on top of some kind of folded-over tarp/canopy thing waaay back in the vines and right up against the bricks.
"Uh oh," says I. "Chelsea, you'd better not be laying back there. That's playing dirty."
Chelsea blinks demurely and jumps down behind the tarp. For a bigger chicken, it wouldn't have worked, but Chelsea is a petite girl and was quite capable of getting back there, as it turns out. Alright, well, whatever. That's so far back that I can't even get into the ivy enough to see behind the tarp, but I don't have a choice. So, here I am worming my way into a bunch of old ivy and spiderwebs (shiver, don't-think-about-it!) in my pajamas, no less, with Chelsea walking around and laughing at me, as if to say, "You'll never find them all!"
I stick my hand behind the tarp. Yep, there's a nice, warm egg right there. And a couple of cool ones under it. I pull them out, then stick my hand back there to make sure I got them all. There were more eggs. Enough that I didn't have enough room in my hands to carry them. Ooookay, so I take the seven eggs I've just collected into the house, grab my hat for carrying, and come back out to retrieve what's left. Chelsea is still laughing. And by now, I'm laughing, too. I just cannot believe what I've found.
Do you want to know what was back there? 27 eggs!! And 25 of them were Chelsea's! Holy cow, girl! At least now I know you've been laying!
She must have found this spot right after I busted her last one in the huge bridal wreath we have. And I'm sure that she's going to find another devious spot, now that I've raided her hoard.
So here I sit, scratched to heck with vine debris in my hair and all over me, but I'm feeling pretty good. Because Chelsea's not laughing anymore. I'm the one laughing. Ha ha, Chelsea. Stuck it to ya!
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