He...oh wait, I mean SHE....did it!!

Laid an egg, that is!!!  

A "he" is incapable of that feat, correct?
So the debate has ended. 

 Clarkson the chicken,

Clarkson the suspected rooster,

 is indeed a hen.

We'd kind of wondered, you see, since Clarkson's comb was bigger than the other chickens and because he (I mean she) walked with a bit of a manly swagger.  In our inexperience, this chicken looked rather rooster-ish.

Our chicks were supposed to reach egg-laying age at the end of October, but every day when we eagerly checked the nesting boxes, we came back empty-handed.  Apparently if chickens reach maturity during the dark winter months, sometimes they won't lay eggs until the Spring.  Dang it.  I wanted a Halloween egg but would have to wait until Easter.

Lyle built this handy-dandy egg collection door into the side of the hen house.  It opens right into the nesting boxes, the nesting boxes which the chickens showed no interest in.  So, I basically stopped checking.  Then, two days after Thanksgiving, I was out with the dog when I heard a mighty ruckus coming from the hen house.  I figured that Clarkson the rooster was finding his voice.

I opened the side door to the nesting boxes and there sat Clarkson, squawking to beat the band!  It felt like I'd walked in on someone using the bathroom, and quickly apologized and closed the door.  I ran up to the house to tell the kids an egg was on the way.  Much to our surprise, there wasn't just one egg, but THREE!  Clarkson had laid the first egg on Thanksgiving!  In all of the excitement, with kids carrying the eggs, only one of the three made it into the refrigerator intact.

No matter.  Clarkson is now consistent as Old Faithful, delivering one egg a day.

We all find it pretty amazing.

Miraculous, really....

........especially coming from a rooster.  

Way to go Clarkson.