We've been following the chicken named Mr McFluffers since she was an egg in a clutch under the broody hen. On August 11th, Anna's birthday, she was one of two hatchlings, then the only survivor, with a dedicated mother hen to hang out with. Somewhere along the line we figured out that Mr McFluffers was a girl, even though she has spur buds, a feature of the Mediteranean breeds of hens.
When a chicken was needed for the school play, Mr McFluffers' mom had gone back to join the flock, but McFluffers had not found a place in the pecking order and was usually alone outside or in the entryway to the barn, looking like the Ugly Duckling. So Mr McFluffers was our pick for the school play, where the village idiot character was trying to teach her to talk.
This morning, New Years Day, I went out to the barn to give the chickens food and water and found Mr McFluffers on her usual perch in the entry way and a small egg in the straw in the corner. I took it as a good sign for the new year that our hen from an egg is now laying eggs of her own.
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