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.

Hens are bossy, demanding, endlessly curious and easily gratified. They are comical to watch, make great friends to your children, provide amusement for you, and supply eggs for the table. I’ve enjoyed keeping chickens for more than fifteen years. Currently, I have nineteen hens, divided into two flocks, that live in separate coops and fenced yards. The hens in the Big Barn are young and in the prime of their egg laying years. The chickens in the Little Barn are old and no longer lay eggs. I’m not a real farmer and can afford to keep hens that are not laying daily, and so my chickens are dual-purpose – egg layers and pets. My hens live in my backyard, which is also where I have flower, vegetable and herb gardens for pleasure and for use in my kitchen. I manage my flock so that I can enjoy the company of the hens, but also have a beautiful and serene yard. What I’ve learned over the years about a life with chickens, I share here on the HenCam. You can find detailed information in the FAQs; what follows is a quick overview to get you started.

You don’t need a big flock to get eggs for your table (many breeds lay 5 eggs a week), but it is best to have a minimum of three hens, as they are sociable creatures who like the companionship of others of their kind. In the winter they fluff up next to their friends, and in the summer they’ll dust bathe in groups. If the idea of a rooster keeps you from having chickens, don’t worry. You don’t need to have a rooster around for the hens to lay eggs, in fact, “the girls” appear quite content to not have a male in their midst, constantly trying to mount them. I don’t keep roosters as I’ve no desire to deal with the crowing or aggression. My hens do fine without a roo, and I have no problem with bullying in my flock despite not having the male “leader.” Some people do like having a rooster, with his big personality and voice, around. It is possible to find a nice (though not quiet) rooster, so never settle on one that attacks people!

You’ll need to provide your chickens with a henhouse to give them shelter from inclement weather, a place to lay eggs, and a safe haven to spend the night. It doesn’t have to be elaborate or huge, although a fanciful coop can be a feature of your garden design. It is essential that the coop is large enough. Too many of the prefab coops currently being marketed are way too small, with no windows or adequate ventilation. Plan on a minimum of 4 square feet per chicken of interior floor space, and another minimum of 8 square feet outside. For details about coop design see my FAQ.

The more space your chickens have, the healthier and happier they’ll be. The term pecking order definitely originated with poultry. Chickens peck at each other for all sorts of reasons, but mostly to keep the other girls away from their treasures, be it a glistening drop of rain or a juicy bug. Given enough space, these little spats are harmless, but when chickens are crowded they become ruthless and might even peck each other to death. (I have more about pecking and aggression in a FAQ.) Hens can also become aggressive when bored. A bare dirt pen, or long stretches indoors in cramped quarters, will bring out the worst in them (no different than us!) That’s why I have a compost pile in the chicken run, (see this FAQ) and recommend treats like pumpkins and cabbage to keep them busy.

Inside the henhouse you’ll need roosts, which chickens sleep on. They should not sleep on the floor or in nesting boxes! You can see the angled ladders that my hens use, on the cams. Nesting boxes should be low and located out of direct sunlight if possible. I like the metal boxes, as they are easy to clean and don’t harbor mites. However, wooden ones will do. I keep my hens bedded with pine shavings which are absorbent and easy to keep tidy with a fine-tined pitchfork and a kitty litter scoop. Feed and water needs to be kept dry and clean. I prefer both to be indoors. Use a gravity flow water dispenser designed for chickens. You’ll also need a hanging feeder for the food. The majority of the hen’s diet should come from laying hen pellets. Although chickens go crazy for scratch corn, it is fattening and can upset their calcium balance. Instead, make sure that they have greens and other vegetables. Hulled sunflower seeds are a welcome occasional treat.

During the day the chickens need access to sunshine and an outdoor run. They need a place to dust bathe (FAQ here) and protection from predators. Chickens enjoy free-ranging, and it’s the best life for them. However, it’s not always practical or safe. Chickens tear up plants, eat everything from flowers to tomatoes, and will quickly turn a small lawn into packed dirt. Where I live, there are hawks nesting in the trees in the woods behind my house, foxes that hunt day and night, and other predators. My hens stay in their spacious pens, except under my close supervision.

When you have chickens you have losses. Predators and disease will thin your flock. I detail what to do in case of illness, and how to protect against predators in my FAQs. Even healthy hens have comparatively short lifespans, although a few sturdy chickens will live to be 8 or even 12 years of age. By the time they’re five they rarely, if ever, lay eggs, but they’ll be familiar faces in your backyard, and, I think, nice to have around. As you begin your chicken keeping life, think through how you’ll incorporate these animals into your day, even when they no longer provide eggs for the basket that you carry to the kitchen. Plan the coop and pen so that you get the full benefit of keeping hens – companionship as well as eggs. Don’t tuck the coop away out of sight, or make it so small that you can’t interact with the girls. Lastly, a word of caution – once you get a few hens, you’ll likely want more. Have fun!

It is a joy to see a colorful, glossy-feathered, fluffy-butted hen.

Chicken skin, on the other hand, is not pretty. It’s a sad yellowish or brick color, and bumpy. When irritated it’s a painful-looking red. Chicken keepers become worried and upset and when see it.

There are many reasons why your chicken might look bare, and several of them are of no cause for concern. Once a year, a mature hen molts – all of their feathers fall out and they grow new ones. Some hens go through a dramatic molt during which they turn almost naked over night. Others just look unkempt. For more about molting, see this post.

When a hen goes broody, she’ll pull out her breast feathers so that her skin is in contact with the eggs. If you have a bad-tempered, bare-chested hen sitting in a nesting box, she’s healthy, but broody.

One clue to what is amiss is where the bare spots are. If you have a rooster, you’re likely to see feather loss around the neck and back, due to the rooster pulling out and shredding feathers when he treads the hens. Sometimes the rooster favors one hen, so that her saddle (back) feathers get worn off, while all of the other girls look lovely. If there are open wounds, or her skin is so red that the others peck at her, you’ll have to separate her, or get rid of the rooster.

Sometimes hens develop scraggly bare patches. This is not necessarily due to illness. Every year, a couple of my best layers lose their neck feathers and go bare near their vents. It takes a lot of protein and energy to make feathers, and these hens put their resources into egg laying instead. It is perfectly normal.

But, if your hen has irritated, raw, bald areas, especially near the vent, take a closer look for parasites. Pick up your birds and examine them closely. (To learn how to do this, watch my youtube video.) Feather loss can be due to external parasites, typically lice, or sometimes mites. A louse infestation is first seen near the vent. There will be bare skin, and the feather shafts will look like Q-tips. You might see the lice crawling about.  I’ve written about lice here. Mites are nighttime blood suckers, the size of pins. You’ll see dried blood and rawness near the vent.

Once in awhile, there will be a feather-picking hen in the group. You might never catch her in the act, but she’ll peck away at the other hens’ feathers, until, one day, you notice bare spots and possibly blood. Some feather pecking is due to aggression. In other cases, the culprits are pecking the feathers off to eat them. Usually you’ll see the bald areas near the vent or at the base of the tail. Once a chicken is pecked at, the behavior escalates because all hens will peck at red skin. So, it’s important to catch and stop this behavior quickly after you notice it.

Once hens get into the bad habit of feather picking and eating, it is hard to stop, but possible. The first step is to darken the afflicted hen’s skin, which reduces the cannibalistic behavior. You can dye the skin with blu-kote (similar to gentian violet in the UK.) It dyes the skin purplish-blue, so the hens don’t peck. (Use disposable gloves when doing this, as it will also stain your skin.) Feather eating can occur because the hens need more roughage and more protein in their diet. It can also start because of boredom and crowding. So, make sure that they have access to oyster shell and grit. Reduce empty calorie treats like cracked corn and stale bread, provide greens and interesting things to eat like melons and squash. Also take stock of your housing. Is there enough space and access to feed for everyone?

Sometimes, everything is fine but there is still feather picking. In the case of Jasper, the hen seen in the photo above, she lets the other hens pick her tail feathers off. Jasper is a dominant hen and she could stop this behavior if she wanted to. Blood is never drawn. It’s an odd habit, but I ignore it.

Some hens lose feather near their vent because they have a continual stream for thin diarrhea. This might be vent gleet, which is an intractable yeast infection. I’ve written about it here.

On the other hand, feather loss combined with a swollen bottom that feels like a water balloon can be any number of dire diseases, from cancer to egg impaction. You’ll know if there’s an underlying ailment because the hen will show other symptoms, like an odd, penguin-like walk, tiredness, and a lack of appetite. Without those additional clues, feather loss is rarely a serious problem.

Sometimes, you never know why a hen has raw, red, rough skin. I have a Barred Rock who developed what looked like a rash. For a while the skin was hot to the touch and she walked with stiffness. She lost all of her butt feathers, which never grew back, I bathed her and used povidone and she moved with less discomfort, and the skin thickened but remained red. Two years later she still has a bald bottom, but is otherwise fine. Sometimes feather loss is a mystery.