I. Know. We have a number of layers that varies based on how recently we've acquired more and how busy the local foxes have been[0]. They aren't graceful, but

I. Know. We have a number of layers that varies based on how recently we've acquired more and how busy the local foxes have been[0]. They aren't graceful, but they'll get places you'd be surprised to find them. And they'll usually poop all over when they get there. They also don't much care for walking through the snow. They'll noisily and gracelessly fly 50' if there's scratch grain scattered on the driveway. My sister-in-law raises meat birds, and she's done the Cornish Crosses[1] a couple of times. They'll get big enough that they don't really walk well without dragging their breasts on the ground, never mind flying. I'm kind of hoping she's done with them and that I don't have to help process them again. The Freedom Rangers that made up half of the last flock were a lot more pleasant to deal with. Even so, the smell of chicken shit and wet feathers usually puts me off eating chicken for a week afterwards. [0] On the bright side, it means we haven't yet had to have a conversation about what to do with a layer who has aged out of laying. [1] Which she refers to as "mutants".