The Necessity of Policing Chickens

It is amazing how much poop a dozen chickens can generate in just a few weeks.

Cleaning out the coop in winter's cold is not on the list of my favorite things, so for the past couple months, I have been piling hay over the mounds of poop to absorb the moisture and smell. That was working just fine, but I began to worry if I waited until spring, the clean-out job would be horrific. Thankfully, the weather offered up a pleasant enough day, and so I bit the bullet and went to work.

I knew from collecting the daily egg one hen has been kind enough to lay (C'mon, chickens! I expected a little more than that!) that some chickens have been sleeping in the nesting boxes. (I keep wondering if some of the chickens are laying somewhere sneaky, but I haven't found anything. Obviously, it's really bothering me, because I had a dream the other night that I started finding piles and piles of eggs hidden in massive hay mounds in a stable. Chicks were hatching and running all over and it was just crazy...) Anyway, back to the poop.

After I cleaned the coop out and put fresh hay in, I decided I'd better police the nesting boxes for a few nights to see if I could break the bad habit. At dusk last night, armed with a flashlight, I went to see who the culprits were. I was a little surprised to see my two Ameraucanas taking up the top two boxes. I can't say why I was surprised, except that they are two of my favorites, and I hadn't expected that chickens I really liked would cause me grief. (I know. There is no basis for this sort of reasoning.) Regardless, I needed to get them out.

Sylvia, the shyer of the two, hopped right out of the box with a slight nudge. Goldie, I had to grab and force out. I wanted to make sure the hens were settled into a new spot before I left, just in case they got the idea to sneak back up to their old spots. Sylvia hopped right up to the corner where there was ample room, and although she wasn't crowding anybody, I could see why she had probably been taking refuge in the nesting boxes: the one hen in the area gave her a sharp, irritated peck to show she was only grudgingly allowing an intruder to enter her domain.

Goldie was being a little more stubborn. She wanted to roost in the corner that was most crowded, even though there was still plenty of room near Sylvia. For several minutes she kept trying to weasel her way among the other hens, but they met her with a solid wall of rejection. (Chickens can be so heartless.) Finally, Goldie gave it up and noticed a space next to our alpha rooster. I could tell she was hesitant to disturb him, but she plucked up her courage and hopped up next to him. He huffed a little, but allowed her to stay, and I closed the coop and went back to the house.

Today, the egg will be clean.