I told my sisters a story last May about our barred rock hen, Henrietta and how she thinks she is a rooster. I hadn't heard her trying to crow for quite a while so I began to think she was either a) becoming a little more feminine; b) totally old as she is the only hen we kept from the older group (and let me tell you it was only because I am shallow and thought she was so pretty that we couldn't kill her); or c) she lost her voice.
This morning I was folding laundry in the utility room where the window looks out toward the hen house and I heard what I thought was a hen in trouble. My first reaction was to grab a broom and run down there to beat off a raccoon, skunk (ha! can you imagine?) or something that was after the hens. I was part way there when old Henrietta ruffled up her feathers and flapped her wings and let out this horrendous squawk. So she was up to her old tricks yet again.
Yes here she is trying to accuse Penny when I came back with my camera intending to record the sound. She would not do it again as long as I was out there.
But I do think she is becoming quite crafty at hiding behind her cohorts and the feeder. Nope not me she seems to be saying.
I think we are changing her name to Henry. Most fitting don't you think?