There is an egg-stomping, egg-smashing hen in the big barn. I don’t know who she is. All I know is that there are seven hens in that coop. Two of them, the golden comets, Agnes and Philomena, are young and lay everyday. One of the old girls lays occasionally. I don’t know which one, although I suspect that it’s Maizie. One of these three laying hens, in her enthusiasm to get into the nesting box, or, perhaps just because she is careless with her dinosaur feet, tramples one of the eggs. When I go to collect the eggs, one is in pieces, a yolky mess in the shavings. She doesn’t eat the egg. If she was an egg-eater, she’d be gone. That sort of bad habit is picked up by the other hens, until you have broken shells and not much else for your chicken-keeping efforts. Sometimes, hens lay thin-shelled eggs that break easily – then the hens learn to eat them. However, that doesn’t appear to be the cause. The smashed eggs that I’m finding look normal. I wish that I had a camera in that coop to spy on the hens. I’d like to know the culprit and see what is going on.