It takes about 26 hours for the from the time that the yolk is released from the ovary until the egg is fully formed and comes out the vent. Egg laying is a complicated process. Once that yolk is in transit through the oviduct, it gets surrounded by more yolk, then white, then gets enclosed by the shell (which requires about 15 hours to fully form) until it’s finally dropped into the nesting box. This process works like a conveyor belt. Even as the first egg is being laid, another is starting its journey through the system. There can be glitches. Sometimes an egg is missing the yolk, or the shell, or is a weird shape or teeny tiny or especially huge. When an egg stops moving along the tract, then your hen is egg bound. As you can imagine, this can cause all sorts of issues. Not only will eggs back up behind the stuck one, but also, since the egg shares the same outlet as the digestive tract (the vent), it will be difficult for her to expel manure. She’ll be miserable. She’ll die if that egg doesn’t come out.

When a hen is egg bound she is in obvious discomfort. An egg bound hen stands more upright than usual and walks like a penguin. Her abdomen might feel bloated. She might be sitting in a nesting box, tilted with her tail up, her vent opening and closing, looking like she’s straining. However, these are not definitive indications that she is egg bound because these are also the symptoms of many other ailments. In fact, it is very rare that has an egg stuck in her oviduct. More often than not, what you think is an egg bound chicken is actually a hen that is quite sick from something else.

It is very, very rare that a perfectly formed egg is stuck at the lower end of the tract near the vent. In twenty years of keeping hens, I’ve never had such an egg bound hen. But, it does happen. If this is the case, you might be able to see or feel the stuck egg just inside the vent. Slather vaseline on a (gloved) finger and feel up her vent. If you reach the obstruction, try to grease it to help it along.

Sometimes, with the stuck mass further up the hen, what she needs is to get the both the reproductive tract and the digestive tract active. Although these two systems are separate, a problem in one affects the other. When the digestive tract stalls, manure can build up and block the movement of the egg. Likewise, buildup in the reproductive tract can block the expelling of waste. There’s a simple remedy for this situation. A hen that looks miserable and constipated needs what I call The Spa Treatment – a nice, long warm soak in an epsom salt bath. (Read the FAQ for an explanation of how the epsom salts work.)

Here is Jasper having a soak.

It looks like she’s enjoying the bath, doesn’t it?

With any luck, manure and an egg will pass and the hen will be fine.

Just keep in mind that an accurate diagnosis isn’t possible until after the fact. If she recovers without expelling an egg, then you know that it was a different issue that caused her to look poorly. Sometimes, despite the best care, a hen dies. That allows me find out exactly what went wrong. I do necropsies on all of my deceased birds. Over the years I’ve done more than twenty of these. In many cases, the external symptoms were the same – that penguin stance, lack of appetite, and straining at the vent. Of all of the hens that I’ve examined, only one was truly egg bound. The others had, among other ills, tumors, cancer, ascites and internal laying.

So, all of this is to say that being egg bound is a rare occurrence, however an accurate diagnosis isn’t necessary for knowing what to do next. If the hen can be saved, she will be with the Spa Treatment. I’ve had many hens bounce back after a rejuvenating soak. It’s worth a try. And, if it doesn’t work, you’ll know that you did your best.

Diagnosing a sick chicken is guess work. Hens exhibit the same symptoms for different ailments. Also, chickens can be very, very sick before you notice anything is amiss. Not only do they hide illness, but they often function seemingly fine until they are days away from death. The best advice that I can give anyone is this: know your animals. You should be so acquainted with their quirks and vocalizations, their greetings and their eating habits, that as soon as something is off, you know it.

You will know if your chicken is sick if:

She is hunkered down with her wing feathers dragging. (Do not confuse this with broodiness, when she is in her nesting box, fluffed up and angry!)

She isn’t eating or drinking.

She is coughing, wheezing, and/or has mucus or bubbles in her eyes.

She is covered with lice. 

She is limping, or moves as if she is uncomfortable.

There is a runny, or bloody discharge from her vent.

She has diarrhea (if it’s green or bright yellow, her condition is serious). Or, there is no manure at all.

The other hens are pecking her, when it is usually a peaceable flock.

As soon as you notice any of these signs, pick up your chicken and examine her. Look for a wound, listen for the sounds of a respiratory ailment, check her vent (blood, prolapse?) and her abdomen (distended and hard, or like a water balloon?) Feel her weight. Sick chickens quickly become emaciated and their keel bones stick out.

Isolate her (I use a dog crate) so that you can keep an eye on the poo, the food and water consumption, and whether she is laying (and what the egg looks like.) You’ll need all of these clues to hunt for a diagnosis and course of action. If I see respiratory symptoms, I’ll keep her isolated to try to keep the disease from spreading, but if not, after observing her, I’ll put her back with the flock. Unless the other hens are attacking her, it does her no good to be isolated and indoors.

The first thing that I want to determine is whether the hen has a respiratory disease. Bird lungs are different than lungs in humans. They’re small and tucked into the back of the rib cage. For a detailed look into avian respiration go to this website. Chickens are susceptible to many respiratory ailments, both viral and bacterial. Once the lungs are compromised, the bird will decline quickly. What you might at first notice as a bit of wheezing can quickly turn fatal. Although I’ve seen charts which purport to identify which of the major respiratory ailments your hen might have, I can tell you that they aren’t accurate. That’s because I’ve gone to the expense (hundreds of dollars) of doing lab work on some of my ill hens. I can also tell you that it doesn’t really matter which disease she has – not only are your treatment options limited, but by the time the lab results come back, your chicken will likely already be dead. For commercial growers, doing the lab work is worth the expense, but for a backyard chicken keeper it is not. No matter what the causative germ is, the course of action is to try one of two antibiotics, duramycin or Tylan. The bottom line is that if your hen is having difficulty breathing, or if you hear a rattly, wheezing sound, don’t wait. Read this post and this one on using antibiotics.

If it’s not respiratory, then you’re probably worried because something looks wrong with your hen – she looks listless, is hunched, isn’t eating, perhaps her comb has paled, or she appears to be straining to lay an egg. My first course of action is my Spa Treatment, which is basically an epsom salt soak, a dose of olive oil, and TLC. This is surprisingly effective and has brought many hens back from the brink. It works when there is what I call an imbalance of inputs and outputs. In order to create that egg, the hen has to digest and process food, then circulate the minerals, etc. through the blood, then utilize them to create an egg. Sometimes that complicated system goes out of whack. The hen will look uncomfortable, perhaps hunched, perhaps walking around but not hungry. Sometimes she is weak and so her digestive tract becomes blocked. In those cases, the Spa Treatment will set things right. If it doesn’t, then something terribly wrong is going on inside of your hen.

Chickens are prone to cancer and tumors, liver disease, and reproductive tract failures (which in turn lead to blockages, internal infections and more.) The external symptoms for all of these terminal ailments are so similar that you won’t know what is wrong with your hen until she dies and a necropsy is done. I know – I’ve guessed wrong more times than I’ve been right. For many people, their hens are their beloved pets and they’d do anything to cure them. But, sometimes, it’s a kindness to let them go. I don’t take my chickens to a veterinarian, not even to a practice with a specialty in birds. That’s because by the time the chicken is so ill that you notice, there is nothing that one could or should do for her. (I’ve written more about this here.) I do my own necropsies on my birds, and I can say that of the more than twenty chickens that I’ve looked inside of, that not one of them could have been helped. I’ve seen cancer, internal laying and fatty liver disease, ascites and peritonitis. In all cases, it was a kindness to euthanize.

But I don’t want to end this post on that negative note! In many cases, respiratory ailments can be alleviated and your flock can go on to another year of laying and good health. Chickens have a remarkable ability to heal from wounds. General malaise can be cured with the Spa Treatment. For your sanity, keep in mind that hens are not long-lived. They’re at their height of their egg-laying productivity for the first two years. After that, it all depends on the genetics of the bird, how you feed them, and luck. I’ve had hens come back from ailments and live to be 9 years of age. I have friends with hens that have lived into their early teens. But, know that it’s normal if they don’t. Keeping chickens is all about compassion mixed with common sense.

You can’t drop a new hen into your flock and expect it go peacefully. It’s the nature of chickens to drive off an unknown chicken. It’s normal for an established flock to aggressively go after the interloper. Try it and you’ll see body language that ranges from mildly threatening head-darts to more dramatic chest bumps. Usually, the meeker hen will scurry away with the head hen in fast pursuit. If the new hen is introduced into a confined area where there is no space to escape, the aggression can escalate to bloodshed. A hen might pin another one down and viciously peck at her head. Intervene if you see this behavior as this can lead to death!

Each chicken will have a different response to the newcomer. Some are easy going but others won’t tolerate an intruder. Some large chickens chase off bantams. And everyone has issues with pouffy-headed Polish. That said, I have had a mixed flock of small and standard birds, Polish Crested, plainly feathered and fancy speckled that have all lived fairly peacefully together. However, it takes some doing.

If you decide to add a hen or two to your small flock, the first thing to think through is what you’ll do about biosecurity. That healthy-looking chicken that you bought on a whim at the fair can be a vector of all sorts of ailments. Check the new hen over for lice and mites and treat if necessary. All chickens have been exposed to various germs, some of which your existing flock has yet to be exposed to. The new hen might appear fine but be a carrier of disease. Viruses are shed when animals are under stress, and adding a hen to a flock is stressful for all. So, always isolate the new bird for a week before introducing her to your flock. Still, that doesn’t guarantee that she won’t bring disease onto your property. Adding a mature bird to the flock is always a risk which is why I prefer to get day-old chicks. However, babies require a brooder and a separate area for four months until they’re old enough to go in with the big girls. It’s a decision you’ll have to weigh based on your own situation.

Introducing a new hen goes easier if she’s had a chance to meet the others through a fence. The best scenario is to have a pen next to the existing coop and run. Keep the new hen there for few days until no one pays her any mind (at first there might be chest thumping and pecking along the fence line.) Then, have the new hen explore the coop and run without being bothered by the flock (let them free-range, or have them out in the pen while she checks out the coop, and vice versa.) Let the new girl look around so that she can discover where the food, water, roosts, etc. are.

Then, if you can, let everyone out onto the lawn where they can spread out, ruffle feathers and do some dramatic body language without being able to corner and beat up on the interloper.

Once the hens have met and free-ranged together without a skirmish, you can move the new hen into the coop. Do this at night. When they are sleeping, set her onto the roost with the others. When everyone wakes up, they just might say, “You must have been here all along.”

Make things easier for everyone by adding only as many hens as your coop can comfortably hold (design criteria in my FAQ.) Add an extra waterer and feeder in the outside run so there are no resource guarding issues. Supply outside roosts so that everyone has room to spread out, both out and up. Provide interesting foods that take a long time to eat, like pumpkin and big summer squash.

If there’s enough space, food and distractions, everyone should figure out how to get along.