Summer Surprises

This morning we were blessed with a delightful surprise.

We went to check on our broody hen who had laid a hidden clutch of eggs under some brambles and vines in our front yard.

Look what we saw peek out from under her wings: four little black faces!

We hadn't known what to expect from her little experiment with motherhood. We have never let a hen hatch her own eggs before. This particular hen was so determined to hatch her eggs, so we decided to entertain her desires. This has been an unexpectedly rewarding experience for our family.

As we came closer to see her new babies, more heads popped out from her warm feathers.

We counted four, then seven, then ten chicks. We were astonished with the size of her family. When she stood up to get breakfast, we counted thirteen chicks scurrying out from under her body. What fun!

We gathered a respectful distance from Mother Hen and watched the chicks all scramble through the brambles to keep up with their Momma.

I've never seen how a hen cares for her young before. Have you ever wondered how a hen teaches her babies what to eat? She picks up an edible morsel in her beak and drops it in front of  her chicks while she makes a particularly encouraging sort of clucking sound. The chicks respond to this cluck by gathering around whatever food she has given them and exploring it with gusto. It was so fun to watch!

We watched them for an hour today, enjoying the shade under our trees and watching the gentle breeze ruffle Mother Hen's feathers.

I had been worried that her vulnerable babies would be hen-pecked by the rest of the flock. Mother Hen set me straight as soon as the rest of our flock ventured over to her hiding spot. Several hens investigated her chicks and inched too close for her comfort. With a piercing shriek she fluffed her feathers on end and spread her wings (making her look like a turkey) before running full speed at the offending hens. She chased them all away and none of them have come near again.

In the late morning our Pyrenees dog Bella discovered the peeping family. She wagged her tail in excitement and inched ever closer to sniff the babies. She was so eager to lick them I suspected her of jealously wanting to adopt the little brood as her own.

We commanded her to "Leave It" and go away from the chicks. She laid dejectedly on the front step and waited for me to leave the area. When I peered out our window a few minutes later, I saw Bella peeking in the window, watching me. As soon as I left the room (and was out of her sight), Bella began inching her way across the yard to the Mother Hen's family.

I curiously watched her progress as she s-l-o-w-l-y sneaked up behind the little family. Her tail was wagging a hundred miles a minute. She quivered in excitement as she inched laboriously closer to her target. When she was two feet away from her prize, Mother Hen lost patience and bowled into Bella's face at full speed. With a surprised yelp, Bella dashed away. The mother clucked consolingly to her frightened chicks and they gathered under her wings while she led them to a safer sanctuary.

I was surprised that Mother Hen would be so brave. Usually all the chickens run in fear from Bella. Even the boldest, most aggressive rooster flees from before her. She is, after all, just a domesticated wolf...and at times she has played too rough with a chicken and been the unintentional cause of its early demise. I've never seen one of our birds attack Bella before. Suddenly I found myself feeling something unusual: respect for a chicken.

I now want to help this first-time mother because she's trying so hard to be a good protector and provider for her little ones. In an effort to provide an added measure of safety, we moved Diego's playpen enclosure outside in the shade under our oak trees. After adding some water and food, we placed each member of the Hen Family inside its safe walls.

Daniel also took it upon himself to be the unheralded Guardian of the Flock. He moved a chair outside next to the new chicken home (we'll call it the Chick Inn. Get it? It's hilarious, right?) and protected the family from any curious animals. I didn't get a picture of it, so you'll have to imagine this: Daniel was wearing just galoshes and shorts (his shirt was put aside in the interest of fashion I suppose) and leaning back in his chair, propping his black boots on the wall of the Chick Inn, whistling to himself.

It was one of those increasingly frequent moments that made me think to myself, "Who cares about fancy houses, trendy clothes or expensive furniture? Not me. I have the simple joys of the country life and my children are happy. Life is good!"