My chickens are privileged. Pampered. Probably even spoiled.
Life is good at Red Bucket Farm for three lovely hens. They live in the "casa gallina," which is a freestanding fortress for poultry. They have a solid roof, hardware cloth screened walls, and reinforced wood flooring with plenty of bedding materials. The elevated hen house is well-insulated with a sturdy roost for sleep at night. It also has a ceiling vent at one end, and a pop-hole for their ladder at the other end, allowing for ventilation without draft. They have free access to let themselves in and out of the hen house whenever the mood strikes. Since I don't like the stink, I tend to keep it all rather clean.
When the girls arrived at maturity last fall, we provided nesting boxes for them to lay their egss. For my own amusement, the nest boxes are painted fun colors. The girls seemed to like the nest boxes and dutifully left me their eggs in the nests.
This morning I went out to clean the coop and gather eggs. The girls are happy and egg production is up, so I was shocked to find zero eggs in the nests! Instead, I found two eggs (thank you Rosie and Hyacinth) in a makeshift nest at the top of the ladder, in the poopiest corner imaginable.