Ever now and then we'd get a hen that would peck the shells for whatever reason and Dad could always tell which one. That one
would make Sunday dinner. He'd grab their heads one at a time and look 'em over until he found the culprit. Most likely from lack
of calcium like said above, but I didn't know or think about it back then. Sometimes he'd snip a bit off their top bill with scissors.
would make Sunday dinner. He'd grab their heads one at a time and look 'em over until he found the culprit. Most likely from lack
of calcium like said above, but I didn't know or think about it back then. Sometimes he'd snip a bit off their top bill with scissors.
