She disliked the cold and would administer decisive pecks to anyone who dared sit in her spot under the heat lamp. When she approached the food bowl, all stepped aside and waited a respectable amount of time before joining her.
Unlike our current queen of the coop, the High Empress Earl Grey, Henrietta never needed to assert her authority. She will be remembered for her fantastic head of feathers, her not very queenlike laugh (more like a hee-haw), and her benevolent rule. She spent her last weeks in the glass house (above) where she reveled in the warmth, ate lots of mealworms and tomatoes, and really seemed to get better. She who once ruled the roost became sick last summer with an infection that would not heal despite the medical attentions of the vet, of Dona, our resident chicken expert, and of my father, a retired pediatrician.
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