Cheep Cheep has turned broody, which means she is in major pissy mama mode and is hogging up the nest box all to herself and snapping at anyone who tries to enter. She seriously sits there all day and night, which means poor Rosie has lost her backyard roaming buddy and she doesn't have a good place to lay her own eggs.
Because of this lack of poultry companionship, Rosie has gotten a little...eccentric. I think she now considers herself an egg-laying dog. Sometimes I walk out of the office to grab something to drink and I'll see her on the couch looking out the window, or in the kitchen pecking bits of food out of a frying pan. Pretty soon I'm going to ask her to pay rent.
This morning, Rosie stood by the patio door waiting to be let in. I didn't want to because 1) she isn't housetrained, and 2) it just doesn't seem right to encourage this behavior, but I had to open the door for Maggie anyway and so Rosie rushed in, immediately jumped onto my desk and sat on some papers.
We shooed her away before she actually lay, but I have definitely felt that kind of desperation before while waiting in line at the women's restroom, so I felt a little guilty.
If you told me a year ago that I would have these kinds of feelings for a chicken, I would have unfriended you on Facebook.
