One Frozen Egg and a Dying Chicken

The temperatures have dropped.  We are currently holding at -21.7 degrees C (-7 degrees F).  It is cold enough outside to freeze your Winnebago, as the Muppets would say!

It is also cold enough to freeze the eggs in the chicken coop.  See Kate's egg below as proof.

Frozen eggs do thaw out once brought inside.  As they warm up, the split in the shell disappears almost completely and you'll have a hard time telling the egg was ever frozen.  Frozen eggs are still good to eat once thawed, though we don't sell these eggs since they have cracked shells.  Don't ever fry up an egg from its frozen state though, it doesn't work - we've tried it.

We're sad to report this morning that one of our hens that looks like a zebra is very sick.  She will likely die today.  This hen, of the Plymouth Barred Rock variety, was one of the first eight chickens we ever got.  In the spring of 2010, my Dad took me to the farm of a buddy of one of his work colleagues to buy my first flock of hens.  These zebra hens have been reliable layers over the years and have been the alphas of the flock.  Of the eight original birds, we only have two left and the dying hen is one of them.

Healthy chickens moving around and eating.

Sick chicken.  She put her beak in the corner and while still breathing she isn't moving much anymore.

Back when we first started keeping chickens, I was very gutted about each sick chicken.  In fact, to Ian's great dismay, I would create a chicken palliative care unit in our guest bathroom bathtub for each sick hen (though to his credit, he never tried to stop me).  I would line the tub with old towels and provide the sick hen with warmth, food and water in hopes that the quiet, serene environment would soothe her back to health.  I tried this three times and while the chickens never got better, hopefully their last hours were comfortable and peaceful.  

I no longer feel the need to bring sick chickens inside the main house to try to make them better.  I think that being able to accept that death is as much a part of farm life as birth, is a sign of growth in myself as a farmer.  I am now able to leave a sick chicken in the coop with her family and accept that her death is a natural part of her life.  This may not sound like huge growth on my part but if you ever ask my Dad about the hysterical phone call (complete with tears and hiccups) that he received from me the first time one of my hens died, you'll see I've come quite a long way.

While the demise of this particular hen is not surprising since she is quite old and it is very cold outside, it is always sad to say goodbye to one of our feathered friends.  She's been with us for three years and is a good hen.  Hopefully she passes quickly and with little pain surrounded by her family.