In my first year of keeping chickens, I had a Buff Orpington named Buffy. Yeah, I know. Every flock owner and their neighbor had a Buff Orpington in their original batch of chickens. And every flock owner and their neighbor named that chicken “Buffy.” Because every flock owner and their neighbor felt they were being clever and original when they chose that name. And hey. Why would I be the outlier?

One spring day, I found my Buffy settled in a nest box as I was collecting eggs. That wasn’t unusual and it wasn’t a problem. I had become fairly skilled at slipping a hand under a hen and retrieving the eggs she was sitting on. But this time was different.

As I reached toward her, Buffy fixed me with a look of pure evil. She fluffed her feathers until she seemed to double in size, filling the entire nest box. And she snarled, “Move your hand any closer, pal, and I’ll peck it right off your arm.”

She didn’t use those exact words, but it was easy enough to translate the meaning of her demonic growl. I’d never heard a sound like that from her, or from any hen.

That was the day I encountered broodiness for the first time.

What is Broodiness?

What is this strange condition that turns a normally mild-mannered hen into an angry bird? A broody hen is driven by a powerful maternal instinct. She’s prepared to give up eating properly, moving around, laying eggs, and even basic politeness in order to sit on a clutch of eggs until they hatch into a tiny, peeping family. There’s nothing irrational about it. She’s not crazy—she’s committed. She’s just acting like a good mom! It only seems unusual because most modern hens don’t behave that way.

In fact, broodiness has been deliberately bred out of most modern chickens. Commercial chicks are typically hatched in incubators and raised in brooders, so there’s no need for chicken moms.

And a broody hen stops laying while she sits on a clutch of eggs, so egg production drops. For those reasons, farmers over the years have selected for hens that rarely go broody. Over time, the maternal instinct has largely disappeared from modern laying breeds. But broodiness is still out there. It’s more prevalent in some breeds, but it occurs, at least occasionally, in all breeds.

The main sign that a hen has gone broody and has decided that she wants to hatch a clutch of eggs is her reclusive behavior. She stops laying eggs and sits on her nest almost around the clock with only very brief breaks—a couple times a day—to eat, drink and poop.

Needless to say, with all that delayed, backed-up poop in her system, when she finally does relieve herself, her droppings are amazingly enormous and foul smelling. The first time I discovered one of these massive poop dunes, I wondered if some large disgusting animal had found its way into my coop. TMI? Nope, sorry. This is a chicken blog and this is important information! Flock keepers in the know refer to these colossal droppings as broody poop. Broody poop is the simply result of the hen’s unwillingness to leave or foul her nest.

**Marissa the Cream Legbar Hen is Broody**

Another sign is the broody trance—as the hen sits there, she stares blankly into space. If you get too close to her nest or, heaven forbid, try to take her eggs, she may growl and ruff up her feathers, like Buffy did, or even launch a peck attack at your hand.

You may also notice feathers missing from the lower part of her breast. While pulling out her own feathers serves to “feather her nest,” the main function is to better incubate her eggs. Those bare expanses allow direct contact between her skin and the eggs. Chicken people call these bald spots broody patches.

Finally, another example of broody behavior is demonstrated in this video clip of my broody Silkie, Courtney. Notice how she’s trying to cover herself with pine shavings, feathers, and other bits coop debris. I’ve seen other broody hens in my flock do this, and while I haven’t found a definitive scientific explanation, I’ve run across social media chicken chat suggesting it might be for camouflage.

Courtney the Silky Hen shows broody behavior

That makes sense. In the wild, a hen sitting in one spot for days on end would be a sitting duck — um… chicken — for predators. By covering herself with grass, feathers, and other nearby material, she may be trying to blend into her surroundings and stay hidden.

Poor Courtney would have a hard time blending into anything in the wild unless she happened to nest on a fluffy white rug. But she can rest assured that the coop is a safe place, so her camouflage efforts are more about broody behavior than necessity.

Why Do Hens Go Broody—Genetics, Environment, and Hormones

Genetics: Broody Breeds / Nonbroody Breeds

Many scientific studies have tried to pin down the exact genes—or combinations of genes—that make a hen go broody. So far, though, the genetic and molecular mechanisms are proving to be complicated and are far from being completely understood. What is clear is that broodiness is much more common in some breeds than others –proof that heredity and genetics play a key role.

Technically, any hen, of any breed, can decide it’s time to become a mom. But some breeds are much more inclined to flip the broody switch. Egg-laying breeds tend to be the least broody, meat birds are more so, and dual-purpose breeds land somewhere in the middle. Studies have also shown that Asian breeds generally show stronger broody tendencies than Mediterranean breeds.

Commercial egg producers often select Leghorns, Rhode Island Reds and various hybrids because they are way more interested in laying eggs than sitting on them.

Cochins, Orpingtons and Brahmas are well known among chicken keepers for their strong maternal instinct and their enthusiasm for nesting.

And then there are Silkies, who—at least in my experience—will go broody if you so much as look at them the wrong way. Tell them it’s a beautiful day? “Perfect day to sit on a nest!” they’ll think. Mention inclement weather? “Oh, great!” they’ll say. “It’s an excellent day to stay in and hunker down in my cozy nest!” Not unexpectedly, they are really good moms!

**Petula Cluck, Marilyn Henroe, and Vivian Lay have a Silky broody party**

Environmental Factors

Why does a hen decide it’s time to go broody? It isn’t a random whim. Specific conditions around her help trigger that change.

A quiet, cozy nest

Hens prefer to brood in dim, comfortable spaces tucked away from the hurly-burly of the flock. If they can build a snug nest in a dark, quiet spot, they’ve found the brooding serenity they’re looking for. I understand the appeal—I find dark, quiet nooks pretty comforting myself. Doesn’t everybody?

Warm weather and longer days

Spring and early summer, with their rising temperatures and extended daylight encourage broodiness. During these seasons, hens are far more likely to commit themselves to brooding a clutch of eggs.

Other broody hens

Broodiness can be contagious. When one hen starts sitting, others may follow. Buffy reasons, “If Rosie, Fluffy, and Henrietta are all brooding eggs, that must be the cool thing to do. I’d better jump on the egg wagon!” It’s another example herd mentality—or, in this case, flock mentality.

An accumulation of eggs

All birds tend to brood their eggs after a peak laying period and the accumulation of a sufficient number of eggs. What does a hen consider “sufficient”? Some sources mention a dozen eggs. Studies have shown that chickens have the ability to count. So, do they keep track of their eggs? Is Buffy putting little hatch marks on the side of her nest box every time she lays an egg so she can start to brood when she reaches that magic number? Nope. Buffy is not that regimented. Instead of a precise number, the limit is probably related to how many eggs she can successfully cover and keep warm. For an average hen, that happens to be roughly a dozen eggs.

Also, while it’s an important trigger, egg accumulation is not a strict requirement. Hens whose eggs are collected daily will still morosely brood an empty nest.

Hormones: The HPG Axis

Hens have three glands that work together in an intricate system of hormonal signals and feedback loops: the hypothalamus and pituitary gland in their brains, and the gonads (ovaries)—located farther south in their bodies. Sometimes these glands stimulate one another; sometimes they shut one another down. This hormonal conversation controls a hen’s broodiness.

That, of course, is a gross oversimplification. The hypothalamic–pituitary–gonadal (HPG) axis does a whole lot more than regulate broodiness. It controls egg laying, sexual development and maturation, behavior, physiology, and even immune function. And this system isn’t unique to chickens. The HPG axis plays a central role in all birds and in all other vertebrates—reptiles, fish, mammals—and humans. And in both males and females.

To understand how a hen stops laying and becomes broody, it helps to first understand how the HPG Axis starts egg laying. Let’s begin with that.

The HPG Axis – Turning on the Egg Faucet

1. Light initiates the process: Environmental cues—especially increasing daylight —activate egg production. Mammals rely on their eyes to detect light. Chickens and other birds, in addition to their eyes, have light-sensitive cells on their pineal gland, located near the surface of their brains. Light penetrates a hen’s skull and stimulates these receptors, causing her pineal gland to reduce production of melatonin.

2. Melatonin drops; GnRH rises: Reduced melatonin triggers the hen’s hypothalamus to secrete gonadotropin-releasing hormone (GnRH).

3. The pituitary joins in: GnRH travels from the hen’s hypothalamus through a network of blood vessels at the base of her brain to her anterior pituitary gland and triggers it to secrete follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) and luteinizing hormone (LH).

4. The ovaries respond: FSH and LH travel through the hen’s bloodstream to her ovaries and prompt an egg follicle to develop and mature—an egg yolk begins to form within the follicle. As the follicle matures, it begins to secrete estradiol.

5. The hen’s body prepares an egg.
Estradiol signals the hen’s liver to produce yolk proteins and stimulates her oviduct to prepare for forming egg white and shell.

6. The mature follicle sends a signal: When the follicle reaches full maturity, it releases a surge of progesterone. This triggers the hen’s pituitary to release a large surge of LH.

7. Ovulation occurs: The LH surge causes the mature follicle to release its yolk into the hen’s oviduct. As the yolk travels down her oviduct, egg white is added, and then the shell.

8. And finally, the hen lays an egg: This process repeats continuously almost daily.

The HPG Axis – Turning off the Egg Faucet

Broodiness and turning off egg production involves a different set of feedbacks with many of the same hormones within the same HPG system.

1. The environment triggers the hypothalamus: Warm weather, longer hours of daylight, and all the other environmental factors I listed previously trigger the hen’s hypothalamus to release vasoactive intestinal peptide (VIP).

2. Prolactin rises: VIP signals the hen’s anterior pituitary gland to produce prolactin—the same hormone that stimulates milk production in mammals.

3. GnRH is suppressed: Rising prolactin levels circulating through the hen’s body trigger her hypothalamus to reduce production of GnRH (see step 2 above).

4. LH and FSH decline: With less GnRH stimulation, the hen’s pituitary reduces its output of LH and FSH (see step 3 above).

5. The ovaries shut down: Reduced LH and FSH cause the hen’s ovarian follicles to shrink and atrophy. As a result, estrogen and progesterone levels fall sharply. As these hormones fall off, the hen’s egg production and egg-laying behavior stop (see step 4 above). With reproductive hormones suppressed and prolactin elevated, the hen’s physiology and behavior shift from egg production to incubation. She stops laying—and starts sitting. Broodiness is underway!

Broodiness is not a malfunction of the egg-laying system. It is the HPG axis doing precisely what it evolved to do: switching from production to parenthood.

Breaking a Broody Hen

Broody hens do not stay broody forever. Nature has the perfect solution for ending nest sitting. After 21 days, the eggs turn into baby chicks—the eggs are gone and there’s a family to care for.

But, in a domestic flock, that’s not always an ideal solution. Additional baby chicks may be totally out of the question due to logistics and space constraints. And sadly, in most domestic poultry situations, because there is no rooster, a broody hen is sitting on sterile eggs that will never hatch. Also, more than likely her eggs are collected as she lays them, so she’s actually sitting on an empty nest and in deep denial.

Brooding is hard work. Sitting on a nest 24/7 without adequate food, water, dust bathing, walking around, or engaging in any sort of normal behavior is physically taxing. It serves no purpose and should be discouraged.

But how? How do you make a broody hen unbroody?

Since broodiness is triggered by specific environmental conditions, it makes sense that disrupting those conditions can help bring it to an end. Remove the triggers, and you interrupt the hormonal cascade. Once Buffy’s raging hormones settle down, she returns to her usual self — the happy egg-laying hen everyone knows and loves.

The internet is overflowing with advice on how to break a broody hen. In my experience, many of those suggestions are either ineffective or impractical. In the interest of thoroughness, I’ll start with the techniques I don’t recommend — and then finish with the one gold-standard method that has worked for me every time.

The Bad Ideas

Remove your broody hen from her nest. When she goes back remove her again. Repeat.

I’ve not tried this because it seems so impractical. When you take her out of her nest, she’s going to go right back. Over and over and over. How much patience and spare time do you have? Me, not so much.

Distract your broody hen—give her a fun new toy or some treats. Carry her around.

I’ve not tried this because it seems so impractical. She might eat the treats. Then she’ll go right back to her nest. I’m pretty sure she’ll tell you where to put the fun toy. And then she’ll go back to her nest. Carry her around? Really? As she angrily and desperately pecks the flesh off your arm? And how can you get anything done while you’re carrying a chicken around? I don’t think they make those backpacks for carrying kiddos in chicken sizes. And how much patience and spare time do you have? Me, not so much.

Give her a frozen water bottle or ice pack to sit on.

I tried this. Once. The theory is that cooling down the hen interrupts the hormonal cascade—and in this case the cold is right there on her broody patch. My hen didn’t like it very much, but she faithfully brooded that ice pack until it melted and warmed up to her body temperature. I suppose that’s when you’re supposed to change out the warm ice pack with a frozen one. But how much patience and spare time do you have? Me, not so much.

Close off her nest box.

She’ll quickly find another one. Close off all the nest boxes? Where are the other hens supposed to lay their eggs?

Lock her out of the coop.

Where? In the run with the other hens? They need to be able to enter the coop! The broody girl could go into some other outdoor area if it is predator-proof and secure and has a source of food and water. Most people don’t have that sort of infrastructure.

Dunk her in ice water.

Because cooling her down can interrupt the hormonal cascade. But this is cruel.

The Gold Standard Broody Breaker

This method has never failed me: the broody crate. Aka… Chicken Jail!

The concept is simple. The hen gets a space where all her basic needs are met — food, water, safety — but absolutely nothing that resembles a nest or that could become a nest. No cozy corners. No frou-frou. No interior decorating opportunities.

A proper broody setup needs a raised wire floor so air can circulate underneath the hen. I use dog crates as broody crates — several of them, actually, because sometimes multiple hens decide to go broody at once. Thanks a lot, Silkies!

Each dog crates sits on bricks, one at every corner, with a plastic tray underneath. The wire bottom conveniently allows poop to fall through—I just grab the tray for easy cleanup. Quart-sized gravity feeders and waterers are wired to the sides, and a simple 2×3 board stretches across the crate as a roost.

**Buffy the Buff Orpington Hen is in Chicken Jail**

Broody crates work because they introduce exactly the kind of environmental stressors needed to interrupt the hormonal cascade. The wire floor allows constant airflow that cools the hen’s underside and broody patch. She isn’t allowed the visual or tactile sensations of eggs or nesting material. The space is bright, open, and mildly uncomfortable — basically the exact opposite of the cozy retreat broodiness requires.

I usually keep a hen in a broody crate for four to five days before letting her rejoin the flock. If I catch the broodiness late, it can take a little longer. And occasionally a hen relapses back into her old ways. And then she goes back to chicken jail for another round.

Caring for a hen in a broody crate is easy. Check food and water, check on the hen, clean the tray once a day, and maybe offer a few words of encouragement through the bars. That’s it!

Encouraging a Broody Hen

Sometimes you want chicks. And when that happens, your message to a broody hen changes completely: “Yes! Do your thing! Hatch some babies!”

Encouraging broodiness means leaning into all the conditions that make a hen want to sit—the exact opposite of breaking broodiness. Give your determined mama a cozy, inviting nest in a dark, quiet spot where she feels safe and undisturbed. Ideally, set this nest outside the main coop but still within sight of the flock. A little separation protects fragile chicks from curious—or occasionally aggressive—flock mates, while visual contact helps Mama keep her social standing so she doesn’t have to renegotiate the pecking order later.

If you have a rooster, things are simple. Your hen can lay and incubate her own fertilized eggs, and your only job is to candle them now and then to confirm they’re developing. Mama will take care of everything else.

If there is no rooster, or if you’re worried about genetics and the possibility of a less-than-desirable barnyard mix, you can replace the eggs your broody hen has laid with fertilized eggs from a breeder.

Or, you can allow your hen to incubate sterile eggs or even golf balls for a period of time, and then swap them out with just-hatched baby chicks. That’s exactly what I did with my Silkie hen, Courtney.

**Courtney Broods in Her Deluxe Nesting Palace**

Courtney was broody. She had claimed a nest box in the coop and refused to budge. So, I relocated her—under great protest—to a small private coop stocked with food, water, and a deluxe nesting palace: an old plastic wastebasket turned on its side. When I checked on her later, Courtney had wedged herself so deeply into her new nest that only her fluffy white butt was visible. And she was contentedly sitting on a carefully arranged clutch of golf balls.

Several weeks passed while I waited for the pick-up date for some Cream Legbar chicks I’d ordered from a Wisconsin breeder. Courtney continued to pour her little chicken heart into brooding her pile of golf balls. Finally, the cold blustery April morning arrived—pickup day. I had to drive into Wisconsin and then almost all of the way across the state to get the chicks, and then back again. On the way home, the car heater blasted hot air at its highest setting. I had stripped down to my tee-shirt and was sweating. But the chicks peeped forlornly. They were cold. The temperature was nowhere near the 95 degrees baby chicks need.

By the time I pulled into the driveway, the sun was setting. I hurried to the coop with the box of crying chicks. This was the moment of truth. Would Courtney accept these babies? I scooped away the golf balls that Courtney had faithfully tended for weeks and replaced them with the peeping babies.

I shouldn’t have worried about Courtney. She barely hesitated. She immediately spread her wings and gathered the babies beneath her. She clucked softly, preened their fluff, and tucked them safely against her warmth. She didn’t even seem surprised. Within seconds, the chicks stopped peeping and disappeared into her feathers.

And just like that, Courtney became a mom. The chicks were not hers. But the instinct was. And the brooding was.

That’s the real magic of a broody hen: give her the chance, and she won’t just hatch chicks. She’ll show you that broodiness, like egg laying, is simply part of her natural design.