Bossy Biddy passed away about three weeks ago. She was old, lost almost all her feathers and her will to survive. Her timing couldn’t have been better. Our winter has been mild here on the east coast of NC until this past weekend. Lest you worry, Bossy had a proper burial with love and ceremony.
The two remaining girls, Lucy and Ethel, are missing her. Chickens are funny creatures. Lucy and Ethel would snub Bossy and make her wait for treats until they had their fill. I thought Bossy was just in their way, but as she lay there despondent, Ethel would come over and gently nudge Bossy with her beak.
Lucy and Ethel haven’t laid a single egg since Bossy’s demise. They did decide to go through a molt and both look pretty moth-eaten. And now the weather has turned frigid.
So cold that I have to go out every couple hours and give them water to replace the ice in their water-er. They have finally accepted the black rubber bowl I started using when the water-er was too full of solid ice to hold any of the water I took out for them.
What I don’t understand is, why are they sleeping outside with limited feathers during the coldest part of winter? I clean out their house every morning and no poop. It’s all outside where they’ve been roosting on a low wall I put up to help keep their bedding in in the pen.
I’m sure there’s a reasonable chicken explanation, right?