I have never seen a hen like Meg. During the ice storm, the donkeys huddled under the covered feeder trying to stay dry. The barn cats and the other chickens holed up in their roost. Meg sashayed out and up the hill and hopped up on Lulu’s back to keep out of the snow and icy rain. Meg, I said, you are a strange hen. Go inside your roost! She simply clucked at me.