Did you know that chickens can smell? Not only that, but they can be incredibly possessive and jealous as well!
One day, the friends who had given me Hermoso and Blanca brought me three more baby chics, which is how Sabio, Oveja, and Valiente came to be a part of my family. They were supposed to be hens, but in time I realized that Sabio was a rooster – and a very handsome rooster at that! I named him Sabio (wise one) because he often held back and watched before taking action. Valiente (bold one), on the other hand, was quite the opposite. She was the first one to greet me, and was always venturing off to explore uncharted lands. Oveja (sheep) was quite content to follow her comrades wherever they went. I called the little trio “The Three Amigas.”
On the day the Three Amigas came home, Bonita must have smelled them on my clothing. Because the instant I picked her up, she whipped her head around, looked straight at me, and screeched “WHAT???”
“It’s okay Bonita,” I soothed, laughing under my breath. “No other chicken will every take your place in my heart.” She accepted my reassuring words, and settled down into my arms again. But a few days later, much to my surprise, I found her sitting on a small hatch of four eggs. Somehow smelling the baby chics had kicked in her brooding instinct. I was going to be a chicken Grandma!
After a few days of the adult hens constantly trying to kick Bonita off the nest (chickens will do this as a way to get the broody hen to hatch and raise their young), I decided to move Bonita up to my house where I could keep a closer eye on her. I had never been around a broody hen before, so I was initially very alarmed when Bonita refused food and water for several days. But after doing some research, I found that this is indeed part of the brooding process. By not eating or drinking, the mama hen can stay on the eggs longer without having to leave the nest. Mama hens do not poop in the nest, as this can contaminate the eggs. So they go into a bit of a meditative fasting trance, breaking the fast only once or twice during the three week incubation period to eat and relieve themselves.
To my relief, Bonita indulged in a bit of food and water after about a week into the process. And when her body became covered in itchy mites, I forced her to head outside in the sunshine daily to roll in the dirt (chickens use dirt to deter mites and fleas). To be safe, I purchased a fluffy hot water bottle hand warmer, and put the eggs inside it while Bonita was outside. Better safe than sorry ;).
Exactly 21 days later, and on the same day my niece arrived for her visit, we heard a small “chirp chirp chirp” coming from the kennel, and out popped a little black head from beneath Bonita’s bossom. A few moments later, we saw a little golden head peeking through Bonita’s feathers. I was excited and nervous. I had no clue what to do! My only experience with baby chickens had been listening to Pat and Ulinda go on and on about all of the requirements baby chics needed: intricate mixtures of ground grains; constantly having to wipe their little butts so their poop doesn’t get blocked; and carefully managing their temperature. I silently chastised myself for not getting a little more involved in the process because I was so dug in about not wanting to participate in the whole mail order chicken industry.
Much to my relief, my niece and I did some quick googling, and found that our worries were completely unfounded. Mama hen is equipped to handle it all. The only suggestion for human intervention was to hard boil a few eggs, and let mama and the babies eat the mashed up yolk – which they devoured. After that, we simply sat back and watched nature take its course.
We decided to name the little black chic Noche (black in spanish), and the golden chick Atinob (Bonita spelled backwards) because she was the spitting image of her mama. With great pride, I watched my once fearful and shy little Bonita morph into one of the most fierce and protective mama’s I have ever known. Whenever I would open up the kennel, Mama Bonita would shoot out in a flash of feathers, ready to hurl herself at any unsuspecting dog, cat, or cousin chicken within range of the kennel. Then she and her babies would casually strut out the door into the back yard as if they owned the place. And if any of the three amigos ventured too close, Mama Bonita would put her head down and bolt straight towards them like a dive bomber, sending them running for their lives. Then she would calmly continue going about her business of uncovering morsels of bugs and minerals for her babies. No one dared mess with Mama Bonita!
My little one-eyed living miracle had not only learned how to take her rightful place in the world, but she was also learning how to be a caring and protective mama. I am certain that a good deal of her fierceness was due to the bullying she endured. As my father used to say, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Perhaps he was right about a few things after all. And of course, I would also like to believe that my role as Bonita’s mama caretaker also contributed ;).
TO BE CONTINUED…