The broody lost many feathers to the predator before the dogs saved her. Early this morning around 5 am there was a shriek from the broody hen and a kerfluffle and lots more shrieks. Something attacked her while she sat on her nest. Her chicks were due in a day and this was very sad. The dogs were onto the predator immediately and the hen escaped with her life, though the feathers on the back of her neck and her the top of her back are completely plucked. Her skin did not appear to be punctured, but she was depressed. She left the nest and something ate some of the eggs. The babies were fully formed with eyes open, so they would have been hatching today or tomorrow most likely. The hen sat alone hunched over. I am sure she was in some pain from being plucked alive, frightened, though the sadness she felt was overwhelming. I am grateful to the dogs for their diligence in this matter. They did fight whatever it was because there was some white fur on the ground too, most likely from Harley, the biggest livestock guardian dog.
The other broody, the little hen that came last year from a mixed bunch of eggs, also sat in the tall grass just outside the fence. She was totally unprotected there. If the predator found her, the dogs would not be able to get over the fence in time. She hatched 14 babies, cute little fluffy things so tiny. She herself is not more than a few pounds, part Polish and possibly part Ameraucana, though definitely a bantam. The 15th egg was zipped, meaning the baby was alive and trying to get out of the shell. I did not feel I should take the chance and leave the brood there, so I packed them up and moved them into a hoop coop in the yard where they are fully protected. The last egg was placed carefully under the mamma. She was adorable with the little fuzzy butts peeking out from under her feathers. Yet, I was reminded of the sad little mamma who nearly lost her life sitting on her eggs. So, I took a chance.
I brought the injured mamma to the brood and put her inside. She heard the chirping babies and immediately went to them. The real mother did not reject her, but instead allowed her to rest beside her. I feel they will share the chicks. Later in the evening when I checked on the two mothers, they were sleeping peacefully with wings spread to keep the little ones warm . The injured broody was content and the mamma was content and the babies were, well, how could they not be happy with two mothers? They were all resting contentedly. Zzzzz.
The other broody, the little hen that came last year from a mixed bunch of eggs, also sat in the tall grass just outside the fence. She was totally unprotected there. If the predator found her, the dogs would not be able to get over the fence in time. She hatched 14 babies, cute little fluffy things so tiny. She herself is not more than a few pounds, part Polish and possibly part Ameraucana, though definitely a bantam. The 15th egg was zipped, meaning the baby was alive and trying to get out of the shell. I did not feel I should take the chance and leave the brood there, so I packed them up and moved them into a hoop coop in the yard where they are fully protected. The last egg was placed carefully under the mamma. She was adorable with the little fuzzy butts peeking out from under her feathers. Yet, I was reminded of the sad little mamma who nearly lost her life sitting on her eggs. So, I took a chance.
I brought the injured mamma to the brood and put her inside. She heard the chirping babies and immediately went to them. The real mother did not reject her, but instead allowed her to rest beside her. I feel they will share the chicks. Later in the evening when I checked on the two mothers, they were sleeping peacefully with wings spread to keep the little ones warm . The injured broody was content and the mamma was content and the babies were, well, how could they not be happy with two mothers? They were all resting contentedly. Zzzzz.
The broken nest, now sans eggs.
If you look closely, you can see a tiny little beak peaking out.
14 out of 15 eggs were hatched, but the danger was too great to allow them to stay where they were. Now they are safely installed in a hoop shelter in the yard where the dogs will protect them if necessary.
The poor little Columbian Wyandotte hen, missing some feathers, sadly on her own in the yard.
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