One Man's Compost is Another Chicken's Nest

This afternoon I let the chickens out as usual when I got home from work. I checked on them before running an errand and found Sweetie chicken scratching in the compost bin. "You got yourself in there, you can get yourself out," I thought and left the house for a few minutes. I came home and sat down at my desk and a few minutes later heard Spooky chicken raising hell (She is the more vocal of the two. The other day she either protested or was trying to sing along when the preteen girls next door were playing Hannah Montana on the boom box in the backyard and dancing. Ah, to be nine again...Thank goodness Mama didn't have a video camera!). I found that the cause of the commotion was that her sister could not get out of the compost bin as chickens are not so bright and often forget how they got somewhere and how to get out. Spooky was raising the alarm. I let Sweetie out of the compost bin and was putting back the door when I saw this: