brood
brood at Alektorophobia is a file of 5 stories. The newest of them: “Wild mama hen proves she's no chicken when it comes to jungle life”, “Heatwave hen-xiety: New mama's nest traps chicks from food and water”, and “Teardrop finally lives up to her name, and we're a little shaken.”. There's a wild mama hen out there proving she's no chicken when it comes to jungle life, and honestly, I'm both impressed and slightly terrified. Oh, the irony. Chickens. Everything there is to know about chickens and the fear of them. The list below is every brood story on Alektorophobia, newest first.
Wild mama hen proves she's no chicken when it comes to jungle life
There's a wild mama hen out there proving she's no chicken when it comes to jungle life, and honestly, I'm both impressed and slightly terrified. This native wild fowl is thriving where most of us would be chickening out, navigating the chaos of the wild like she owns the place. It's the kind of feathered friend energy that makes you question your own survival skills. If you think your morning box battle royale is dramatic, just wait until you see this hen handle actual predators. For a lighter take on fowl disputes, check out "The morning box battle royale: three hens, one box, zero compromise", because even in the coop, the turf wars never end. This mama? She's the real queen of the jungle.
Heatwave hen-xiety: New mama's nest traps chicks from food and water
Oh, the irony. A new mama hen, so dedicated to keeping her chicks safe that she's accidentally turned her nest into a heatwave prison. Talk about a cluck-tastic case of good intentions gone wrong. This poor mama is literally trapping her babies away from the food and water they desperately need, and in this heat, that's no joke. It's the kind of fowl play that makes you laugh nervously while your heart breaks a little. We've seen stubborn birds before, like that Muscovy duck we covered in "My Muscovy's a flight risk: and a feathered food thief", but this feels different. This is love gone haywire. Anyone else's hens pull a stunt like this when the mercury rises?
Teardrop finally lives up to her name, and we're a little shaken.
Well, folks, we've officially seen it all. After years of raising our feathered friends, a new egg rolled in with a shape that's got us clucking in confusion. It's a real tearjerker, folks, because this little gem has earned the name "Teardrop." And get this, the photo was supposed to be upside down. Classic fowl play on our part! Honestly, it's these quirky moments that keep the backyard life so egg-citing. You think you've seen every oddity, and then a chicken just drops a water droplet on you. It's a good reminder that Mother Nature has a sense of humor, even if her aim is a bit... drippy.
My Hen Hatched a Veggie Omelet: Four Chicks, Zero Tomatoes
Well, here's a plot twist: this hen decided my raised garden bed was basically a five-star nursery. She planted herself on five eggs and a side of cherry tomatoes, because why not mix business with a snack? Today, four of those eggs hatched, and I'm relieved to report she's finally given up on the idea of hatching the tomatoes. Smart bird, honestly. There's a fine line between dedicated motherhood and just being extra, and she was teetering on it. It's a silly, cluck-tastic reminder that chickens really do keep us on our toes. For more feathery chaos, check out our piece on "Chickens Got Her Good!", it's right up this garden bed's alley.
Building a Buffet of Cozy Nooks for My Patient Feathered Ladies
There's something oddly polite about a chicken who waits her turn. I'm mid-project, building another nesting box for my flock, and honestly? I'm impressed. They line up, patient as can be, like they've got nowhere to roost and all day to get there. It's equal parts adorable and a little ridiculous, which is exactly how I like my feathered friends. I get it, though, that quiet anticipation before the big moment. It's not just about the egg; it's about the ritual. If you're new to this chicken life, you'll learn real quick that patience isn't just a virtue, it's a cluck-tastic skill. And for the record, my hens have mastered it way better than I ever could.