chickens
Alektorophobia keeps chickens in one place: 3823 stories so far. The section currently leads with “Two keets met grim ends: what went wrong with this batch of eggs”, “12 eggs from Sacramento hatched: did I just hatch a giant breed”, and “When Your Rooster Goes from Fine to Fowl Play Overnight”. Two keets, two days old, two grim endings, and I'm left wondering if I missed something or if the eggs were doomed from the start. Twelve eggs from Sacramento, and I'm already asking the big question: did you just hatch a giant breed? Chickens. Everything there is to know about chickens and the fear of them. The list below is every chickens story on Alektorophobia, newest first.
Two keets met grim ends: what went wrong with this batch of eggs
Two keets, two days old, two grim endings, and I'm left wondering if I missed something or if the eggs were doomed from the start. One couldn't poop without help, its vent stuck open like a gaping hole no amount of soaking could fix. The other couldn't walk, rolling onto its side until it ran out of steam. I had to put them both down because watching them suffer felt worse than making the call. I'm betting the real culprit was how long those eggs sat outside, forgotten on the counter and past their prime. Low hatch rates and weird deformities in the rest of the batch seem to back that up.
12 eggs from Sacramento hatched: did I just hatch a giant breed
Twelve eggs from Sacramento, and I'm already asking the big question: did you just hatch a giant breed? That's the kind of egg-citing mystery that keeps us all peeking into the brooder with equal parts hope and mild terror. I mean, what if your new feathered friend grows up to be a dinosaur? The suspense is real, and I'm here for it. If you're suddenly worried about your lap space, you might want to check out our related story on the biggest lap chicken who ate all the tomatoes, because apparently, size matters when your shoulder becomes prime real estate. Either way, welcome to the cluck-tastic chaos of chicken keeping.
When Your Rooster Goes from Fine to Fowl Play Overnight
One minute your rooster is fine, the next he's a feathery mess of mucus and mystery bumps, classic fowl play, and not the fun kind. u/FatBingus brought their suddenly sick bird inside, trying apple cider vinegar, warm towels, and VetRx, only to watch him rally by day and crash by night. The swollen neck, the sealed eye, the gargling breath, it's a full-on chicken drama. Turns out it was Infectious Laryngotracheitis (ILT), likely from a new flock member. That's the heartbreaking part: one new bird and the whole coop pays the price. If you think your mystery rooster's face has seen some fowl play, you might appreciate our story on that wanderer, too.
Our neighborly feathered visitor is an ayam cemani: cluck-tastic or creepy
So our neighborly feathered visitor is an ayam cemani, and honestly? I'm torn between "cluck-tastic" and "creepy" too. This bird is the goth rockstar of the chicken world, black feathers, black skin, black bones, the whole mysterious package. It's like having a shadow that clucks. I respect the intrigue, but I also get the shivers. If you're already questioning whether your own feathered friends are plotting something, you might relate to our story about the lap chicken who ate all the tomatoes and got away with it. That bird knew exactly what it was doing. So whether you find the ayam cemani egg-citing or unsettling, you're in good company here.
Our neighbor's mystery rooster has a face that's seen some fowl play
Oh, this mystery rooster sounds like he's seen some serious fowl play, and I'm not just saying that because of his face. A neighbor's rooster who wanders into your yard, looking like he's survived every molt known to chicken-kind, yet weighing less than he appears? That's a feathered friend with stories to tell. But here's the thing, you've got your own flock to worry about. Is it just old age making him look rough, or could there be something more sinister lurking under those ruffled feathers? I totally get the concern. We've all been there, wondering if that wandering rooster is carrying more than just a mysterious past.
Raising chicks and facing fowl play: help me ID these feathered friends
So you bought three Easter Eggers from Tractor Supply, and one turned out to be a rooster, classic fowl play, if you ask me. Now you're staring at the other two pullets and wondering if they're actually Golden Laced Wyandottes. I feel your confusion. Online ID guides can be more mixed up than a flock at feeding time. The silver-and-black lacing on those two sure looks Wyandotte-ish, but Easter Eggers can throw some wild patterns too. It's enough to make you want to chickening out of the guessing game entirely. If you need a break from the mystery, check out our piece on a neighborly ayam cemani visitor, proof that chicken ID can get even cluck-tastier.
Is 11 teenage chickens in a coop all day fowl play or just cluck-tastic
Oh, the teenage chicken conundrum, a classic case of fowl play or just cluck-tastic? Eleven "teenagers" crammed into an 8x4 coop almost all day sounds less like a feathery slumber party and more like a recipe for squabbles. I get it: rotating the flocks so the adults get yard time while the teens wait their turn seems practical, but if that fence time is a rare sighting, those chicks are basically grounded. Since late August? That's a long time to be cooped up. A coop that size can work for sleeping, but all day every day? Those birds need room to stretch their wings and be proper little maniacs.
Your Speckled Sussex Is Doing Something Weird: Is It Normal or Time to Panic
Oh, a Speckled Sussex doing something *new*, that's the kind of egg-citing mystery that keeps us all on our toes, isn't it? You know your feathered friend better than anyone, so when she starts acting weird, your brain immediately jumps to panic mode. Is this just a quirky crop adjustment, or is something more sinister clucking under the surface? I've been there, staring at a hen and wondering if I'm overreacting or under-reacting. The good news is, you're not alone in this fowl play. It might be nothing, but it's always better to check. Speaking of strange chicken moments, our piece on a rooster's wheezing mid-molt explores similar déjà vu with gapeworm, worth a peek if you're feeling nervous.
That chicken is so adorable, I'm almost ready to chickening out
That chicken is so adorable, I'm almost ready to chickening out, and honestly, I get it. There's something about a cute little hen that makes you question your entire life's trajectory. You look at that fluffy face and suddenly you're pricing chicken coops and researching the best treats for your new feathered friend. It's a slippery slope from "aww" to "I now own seven chickens and a custom-built tractor." I've been there. Or rather, I've chickened out just in time. If you need more proof that these birds can completely hijack your emotions, check out our story on a hen's cluck-tastic fight for life that proves motherly fowl play is no joke. It's a wild ride.
Dry fowl pox has landed: here's how to help your clucky patient through it
Oh, poor clucky patient, and poor you, watching those mysterious spours pop up on your hen's head. Dry fowl pox is no joke, but you're already doing the right thing by asking for help. The good news? Once this runs its course, your whole flock should be immune, which is oddly comforting in a "we all suffer together" kind of way. The bad news? It's a slow, ugly process. Those spots on your other hens are likely the start, so keep a close eye, and maybe a little distance. You can't really "dry" them before they erupt, but keeping the coop clean and stress-free helps.
From Overgrown to Egg-citing: Turning Your Neglected Coop Into a Safe Haven
Oh, the things we do for love, and fowl play. You've got the land, the vision, and a freshly cleared coop that's begging for some feathered friends. But before you bring home your cluck-tastic crew of four or five, let's talk about turning that neglected space into a safe, egg-citing haven. First off, that gap between the ground and the coop? Hardware cloth buried a few inches into the dirt is your cheap, predator-proof bestie. And since you're in central/north-ish Texas where the sun is basically a personal grudge, ventilation is everything, think windows you can prop open or a solar-powered fan if you're feeling fancy. No power? No problem. A deep litter method keeps the stink down and the heat manageable.
How to stop your big hens from gobbling up the baby chick feed
Oh, the classic hen heist, your big ladies see that chick feed and suddenly it's a five-star buffet they *must* destroy. I feel your pain. You've done the hard work of integrating Cruella and her crew, and now you just want to feed the babies without playing bouncer every ten minutes. The trick is making the chick feed inaccessible to the big goons. A simple DIY solution: cut a small entrance in a brooder box or tote that only the six-week-olds can squeeze through. The hens will huff and puff, but they can't follow. It's fowl play at its finest, and it buys you peace of mind. For more flock drama, check out our piece on "Your Speckled Sussex Is Doing Something Weird."
A hen's cluck-tastic fight for life proves motherly fowl play is no joke
I watched a hen use her last breath for her babies, and I'm not okay. A lost dog attacked a mother chicken and her chicks in someone's backyard. The dog bit her, she went down, and everyone assumed she was dead. But when they went to bury her, she was still breathing. They brought her inside, treated a single bite wound, gave her water, and she started making chicken noises again. She seemed to be recovering. Then her human decided she needed to see her chicks, so they brought her outside. She could barely stand, but she ran to them. She stayed one more night keeping them warm. She died the next morning. That's not weakness, that's pure, fowl-play-defying love.
So long, brave roo: our feathered friend who kept his flock safe
Goodbye to a true protector. Saying so long to a brave roo who kept his flock safe is never easy, and this post hits right in the feels. He kept all his ladies safe, which is the mark of a top-tier feathered friend. We love a good roo story, even when it's a tough goodbye. It's a reminder that these clucky characters aren't just farm animals, they're guardians with serious personality. If you've ever had a rooster pull a fast one on you, you might relate to our piece on "Our rooster's wheezing mid-molt: gapeworm déjà vu or fowl play." Sometimes their heroics come with a side of weirdness. Rest easy, brave guy. You earned your rest.
Our rooster's wheezing mid-molt: gapeworm déjà vu or fowl play
Oh, a wheezing rooster mid-molt, that's the kind of fowl play that makes you question every feather. I've been there, staring at a half-naked bird and wondering if it's just the molt or something sinister. The gapeworm déjà vu is real, especially since the treatment a couple months back seemed to do the trick. Molting is stressful enough without adding respiratory drama to the mix. It could be the molt mimicking symptoms, or those little worms might be back for a cluck-tastic encore. For anyone wrestling with a similar feathery crisis, check out "A hen's cluck-tastic fight for life proves motherly fowl play is no joke", it's a wild reminder that these birds keep us guessing.
Our mystery rooster Pepper has us all clucking for clues
Oh, Pepper, you mysterious little featherball! I totally get the struggle of staring at your rooster and thinking, "Okay, buddy, what *are* you?" It's like a feathered game of Clue, minus the candlestick in the conservatory. Buying eggs from a sweet lady sounds lovely, but it definitely makes the breed guessing game a whole lot harder when you don't have the parents pecking around for reference. I've been there, squinting at combs and counting toes, and it's honestly a delightful kind of madness. Your curiosity is totally cluck-tastic. If you're worried about unusual behaviors while you solve this mystery, our piece on "Your Speckled Sussex Is Doing Something Weird" might offer some reassurance. I hope the flock helps you crack this egg-citing case
Is That a Roo in Your Flock? My Lavender Orpington Mystery Unfolds
Oh, the eternal chicken gender reveal party, complete with suspense, denial, and a little bit of heartbreak. When a Lavender Orpington you bought in June, thinking she was a sweet little lady, starts sporting suspiciously fancy feathers and a crow that's more "cock-a-doodle" than "cluck," you know something's up. No male vines? Yeah, that's a dead giveaway. We've been down this road before, like when our mystery rooster Pepper had us all clucking for clues. It's a fowl identity crisis, and honestly, it's kind of egg-citing. So, is that a roo in your flock? Let's unravel this lavender mystery together, feathers, fears, and all.
Our lap chickens turn into grain-gobbling maniacs the second the bag appears
Oh, the betrayal is real. One moment your feathered friend is a purring lap potato, the next it's a feathered missile aimed at a grain bag. This user captures the classic chicken conundrum perfectly: they love their lap pets, but those same birds turn into grain-gobbling maniacs the second the bag appears. It's a hilarious reminder that, deep down, every chicken is just a tiny dinosaur with a single-minded passion for snacks. That switch from cuddly companion to feathered fiend is exactly the kind of fowl play that keeps us all coming back for more.
Nancy's sandy droppings have us clucking for clues: and maybe a vet
Nancy's sandy droppings have us clucking for clues, and maybe a vet. This odd hen prefers sleeping on the screened patio and wandering solo, so she could've nibbled something the flock missed. That's the upside: if this is a digestive infection, slipping her medicine will be egg-citingly easy once we know what to order. We're not panicking, but we're watching those droppings like a hawk (a very nervous one). For anyone facing a different fowl health mystery, our article "Dry fowl pox has landed: here's how to help your clucky patient through it" offers some cluck-tastic advice. Here's hoping Nancy's just being dramatic, because chickens sure know how to ruffle our feathers.
I snapped a pic of a chicken and now I'm questioning my life choices
So you snapped a pic of a chicken, and now you're questioning your entire life. Honestly? That's the most relatable thing I've heard all week. There's something about freezing a feathered friend in a photograph that makes you realize just how judgmental those beady little eyes can be. Did she know you were taking the shot? Was she mid-squawk? The mystery is part of the fun. We've all been there, staring at a chicken and wondering if she's plotting some fowl play. If you need a break from existential poultry pondering, check out our piece on why one hen screams bloody murder when her pal lays an egg. Because nothing says "life choices" like a bird that won't stop yelling.
Munchkin the 10-ounce princess has a cat bed for road trip lap snuggles
Munchkin, the ten-ounce princess, now has her own cat bed and baby blanket for road trip lap snuggles. That's right, this tiny feathered diva travels in style, complete with a crate, playpen, and perch. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of her travel setup. My own road trips involve stale gas station coffee and questionable rest stops. But for Munchkin? Only the best. It's egg-citing to see someone spoil their chicken this way, even if it makes me wonder who's really in charge around here. For more fowl pampering adventures, check out "Puffy has zero patience and absolutely zero time for your nonsense."
Puffy has zero patience and absolutely zero time for your nonsense
Puffy has zero patience and absolutely zero time for your nonsense, and honestly? I respect that. There's something oddly refreshing about a chicken who knows exactly what she wants and isn't afraid to peck you for getting in her way. It's that sass that makes the love-hate relationship with our feathered friends so real. Sure, she might ruffle your feathers, but you can't help but admire the attitude. This isn't a hen who's chickening out of anything, she's the boss, and you're just living in her coop. For more on embracing the quirks of chicken life, check out our guide on "Straight Run Surprise: When Those Cute Chicks Turn Out to Be Roosters", because sometimes, personality comes in unexpected packages.
Our top hen screams bloody murder when her pal lays an egg: why the fowl drama
Gubi, my top hen, turns into a tiny feathered opera star every time her best pal settles in for an egg-laying session. For an hour or two, it's non-stop shrill *bokbokbok BAWWWKK* chaos, like she's personally narrating a fowl tragedy. The laying hen? Silent as a ninja. So why the screaming? It's actually a classic pecking-order power move. The boss hen is announcing, "I see you, and I'm still in charge," even while her friend does the hard work. It's less about the egg and more about reminding everyone who runs the roost. If you think that's dramatic, check out our tale of "The Appletree Coop heist was fowl play I'd rather forget", because chicken drama never takes a night off.
When a hard molt strikes, even your favorite hen's crop can cause fowl play
Oh, a hard molt *and* a sour crop? That's a double-whammy that would make even the bravest chicken keeper want to hide under the coop. You're doing the right thing by checking crops weekly, that routine is a total cluck-saver, but finding a hard lump in your favorite girl is heartbreaking. It's that moment when your feathered friend's body decides to throw a fowl party you didn't ask for. We've been there, and we feel your panic. For online vet services, the community often recommends a few tele-vet platforms that specialize in poultry. While you wait for that local appointment, it might help to peek at our piece on "Who's Got the Cluck-tastic DNA Deets for My Flock?