Case of the Concealed Chicks

I was reading my morning literature, when Husband came in.
"Did you pick up the eggs outside the hen house?"
I looked up.  "No, Salt had went right back to the nest, so I just let her set."
"Well, there's no eggs, and I don't see her, either."

Uh, oh...

I set down the comics, to follow Husband out to the back of the hen house, where there was one bedraggled egg, and nothing else. Oh, dear. But no feathers, no smashed eggs, or torn up shrubbery.

Strange.

I walked around, fearing the worst, when we found a dead chick.  I told Husband that meant she might have fought off something. (We have a multitude of wild critters around.) No hint of her anywhere outside. I decided to feed, to get the other chickens out from underfoot.

I had just cleaned out the area around the feed barrels, and Husband had put a piece of plywood by them to store.  I opened the barrel, and heard a chicken growl.  That is a distinctive "Mama Chicken" sound. Knowing that Edgar was outside, it clicked that there was someone else with chicks.  I listened carefully, and heard the growl again, and peeps.  I carefully moved the plywood back, to find Salt with 4 chicks!

I tried to get Husband's attention, but he couldn't hear me. I turned to put the plywood back, and realized Marshmallow was off the nest.  I walked to her, and SHE growled, and two little heads poked out from under her wing. 

So we took care of the one dead chick, then looked over the rest.  Most of them are Maran types, cute little black puffballs.  One or two are yellow white puffballs. 

I had talked about buying some chicks this year to Husband.  Looking at the 11 we have at this point, he grinned and quipped, "and you wanted to buy a few chicks!" And laughed! 

The saga is continuing, too, as Auntie Bird is still sitting. I had given her three eggs to work on.

Last time I checked it, there was about 10.

I will never learn...     :)