Here’s what happens when I let the girls out.
Liesl usually heads out first. Being top hen, it’s her right and privilege to lead the way. Then the younger two come tearing out of the run, usually chasing each other and squawking. Finally, Greta saunters/waddles out . . . and heads straight for the garage door.
While the others are eating snow, or scratching at some dead plants in the garden, Greta plants herself in front of the garage door, and will not leave until I bring out the scratch. Say what you will about the limited mental capacities of chickens, this girl knows where the scratch is kept and solidly refuses to do anything until she gets some. I say that’s one smart chicken.