Ouch!

Sybil caused us a great deal of worry (and trouble) this week.

She stopped laying last weekend, went off her grub and spent most of the time hunched up and looking a bit miserable in the corner of the run.

By Tuesday, I was very concerned for her and started looking up on the web and in books what might be wrong with her. The diagnosis of Dr Dog Walker was that she was egg-bound and the prognosis was not good - it could kill her.

The forums on various poultry sites offered a variety of treatments, ranging from wringing her neck to sticking a lubricated finger up her posterior . . .

I didn't fancy either of these, so we went for the pregnant mum treatment - a nice warm bath to 'relax her muscles' and a quiet night in a darkened room with a comfy bed (dog crate under the stairs). Unfortunately, this did not have the desired effect, though she looked a bit brighter in the morning.

We put her back in with the other two on Thursday and hoped for the best.

Friday morning . . . nothing. But when I arrived home from work, there was good news - she had produced an egg, but not just any egg. It was the most eye-watering thing I've ever seen.

This is an egg the size Sybil was laying . . .

And here is the same egg up against the one she laid on Friday . . .

How much did that hurt? Poor Sybil.

It's now Sunday and I don't think she's laid another egg yet - who can blame her - but she is looking very bright and happy, so we're not too worried.

I expect you might be asking 'who got to eat the egg?'

Well, we all did - it went into the Yorkshire pudding we had today. It was a double-yolker, too.