This morning, we discovered Lucille’s first egg in her little pen at my parents’ house.
But to understand the true specialness of Lucille’s first egg, we go back a few months to January. Lucille, a sweet little Buff Orpington (like my GH) came to live at my parents’ house as a baby chick with another little chick, her Barred Rock sister. When they were about two or three months old, a ‘coon got into their little coop outside and attacked them both, killing the Barred Rock. Lucille survived with a few scratches, but we think the horror of seeing the other chick gruesomely murdered in her pen that night caused her to become extremely skittish and shy around people and the other chickens (can chickens get PTSD?). After the raccoon got in, Lucille was moved to another coop, this one raised several feet off the ground, with hardware cloth and a heavy door – a veritable chicken fortress.
But there’s no outside chicken run on her new coop, and after the raccoon incident, my parents are hesitant to let her out unsupervised since she’s not yet integrated with the rest of their brood. Yesterday, since we were all out in the yard, we let her roam around for a few hours in the clover, and boy did she love it (I also snuck her some cherry tomato slices and grated cheddar, so she was feeling pretty good).
And today, she laid her first egg. My dad thinks it was the two months of laying feed and chicken scraps that did it. I think it was the romp in the clover and cheese/tomato treats. But maybe it was also a bit of an Easter miracle that had our little survivor lay an egg.