Poor Donna. Two months of broody dedication, and what does she get? A soft little fairy egg that looks like a pebble that forgot to be an egg. I've been there. You watch a hen sit on nothing for weeks, willing an invisible chick into existence, and then she finally lays again and it's… that. A tiny, rubbery surprise. It's almost insulting. But honestly? It's also kind of perfect. This is the kind of fowl play that keeps us all humble.
Here's the practical truth: Donna's body has been through the wringer. Two months of broodiness means she barely ate, barely moved, and her reproductive system basically went on strike. When she finally started laying again, her poor oviduct was rusty. A soft-shelled fairy egg is exactly what you'd expect from a hen who's been holding it in for two months and dropping eggs in the run like she's playing a game of hot potato. The new all-flock feed is a smart move, and the fact that you've got oyster shells available means she *can* fix her calcium levels herself. She just needs time to remember how. I'd keep an eye on her, but I wouldn't panic. She knows where the shells are. Let her sort it out.
Now, about those weird laying locations. Donna is testing her new coop like a suspicious houseguest. She's used the nesting boxes a couple of times, which is a good sign. But the run-drops? That's a hen saying, "I can't hold it another second, and I'm not running all the way inside." It's not a crisis. It's a symptom of a system that's still rebooting. If she keeps laying in weird spots after a week or two, you might want to close off the old coop entirely and make the new one feel more like home. Toss in a fake egg or two. But for now? I'd call this a soft start, pun absolutely intended.
What I'd tell you if you asked me directly: Donna is fine. She's not broken. She's just rusty. Keep the oyster shells available, keep the new coop cozy, and give her a few more days to remember how to be a normal laying hen. If the soft eggs continue, you might want to offer a calcium supplement directly, crushed-up Tums mixed into a treat works in a pinch. But I bet she'll work it out herself. She's been through the broody wringer and came out the other side with a weird little egg. That's not a failure. That's a hen telling you she's back in business, even if her first product is a little… squishy.