We lost a hen this week. I went to collect eggs one evening and found her dead on the floor of the coop. She had no obvious injuries and had been healthy. In fact, what I am most bothered by is that she was one of our healthier chickens and most prolific layers. Her Buff Orpington "sister," however, is a bit of a dud with her puny comb, wattle, and egg production levels. Why do bad things happen to good chickens?
My chicken book explains that 5% of a flock will die every year, which does not include deaths as a result of predators. And as John explained, "chickens are birds," indicating that they are not particularly hardy creatures under the best of circumstances. I didn't really perform a thorough examination of her, especially since she was a bit stiff having lain on the drafty floor with subzero temperatures swirling around outside. However, my first guess is that she was trying to get back to the roosting part of the miniature barn we use for a coop, caught a foot, and broke her neck on the way down. She'd not been dead long, but if I'd found her right away a broken neck would have been obvious.
John will soon order chicks for the store, and one thought he's had is that we can raise them to egg-laying age and then sell them at a slightly greater profit. Perhaps I can talk him into letting us keep a few. If so, I will blog about the challenges involved with introducing new, younger birds into a flock.
