Celia is still broody. This has been going on for weeks, if not months, and enough is enough. It is a cold, damp day here and I have bitten the bullet. Celia has been ejected from the nest and the coop door has been closed. Access denied, would-be mother hen.
Broody hens make a curious low level bokking sound. It sounds nervy and anxious because it is. In Celia's hormonal mind, every second she is away from the nest her invisible eggs are in danger. In between this worried chuntering she will stuff her face with pellets and have a swift drink. Usually, though, she is away from the nest for mere minutes before legging it back up the ramp. This morning she found her way barred and set up a pitiful racket of maternal anxiety. I feel hideously guilty, but will persevere.
I had assumed that she would come out of her broody spell naturally once the weather got cold enough but that has proved not to be the case. In fact, the fact that she hasn't had an egg to steal in ages also hasn't cured her. Purdy shook off her broody spell as soon as she realised it was pointless. Celia seems not to have a 'common sense' switch. Day after day, she sits on nothing, in a psychotic trance and growling at any of the other chooks that wander too close. Such insubordination usually earns her a swift peck. Even being regularly duffed up hasn't made her see sense.
As I sit here typing this, she is still running laps around the Palace attempting to find another way in and shrieking her head off. Maeve periodically joins in the chase, which at least silences her as she needs all of her breath to escape the narky moulting one. I am hoping that she will eat more while locked out because her own daftness is beginning to affect her weight. At this time of year, this cannot be allowed to continue.
Let's hope she comes to her senses quickly.