Monday, July 25, 2011

A(nother) word about chickens

The egg laying production is really crankin' up around here. Ginger is adding her lovely greenish eggs to the mix. Katy (our scrawny runt of a chicken) is the only one not earning her keep, and she can't sneak it by us because she is the only one who will lay a white egg.


The twins: Tikka and Pippi have been best buds since we brought them home 3 days old. They started laying eggs within hours of each other. One day I even caught them in the same nesting box side by side. Sure enough, when they hopped up, there were 2 little matching brown eggs. When they lay an egg; they celebrate. (which I think is very fitting--if I were to lay an egg I would celebrate as well.) They start cluck cluck CLUCKing. Which is special chicken speak reserved only for this occasion. Then comes the chicken prance (?). They proudly sashay down the ramp from the coop swinging their fluffy bottoms left to right like a woman in voluminous petticoats and high heels.


Quinoa: they love it. In fact, Katy, who is definitely at the bottom of the pecking order and usually hangs back when the treats are out, only picking up the pieces that fall on the outskirts, turns into Crazy Velociraptor Super Chicken and will take on anyone and everyone-don't you dare come in between her and the quinoa. Think an angry Clark Kent shedding his shy alter ego when say, Lois Lane gets kidnapped by Lex Luther. Ginger feels that way about advocados.

Ginger: She loves her feathers. She is very meticulous and a bit prim and proper. I really should have named her Duchess or Princess or Your Highness as she is a true southern belle. If we had a mirror in the chicken coop she would probably never leave. (I think that is why she has a little bit of a rivalry going with Katy because Katy does not take nearly the same care with her feathers as she does) Ginger is the one who usually organizes Chicky Spa Day and gets the whole sisterhood involved in feather washing, and primping, and general all around chicken beautifying. If someone is on the nest when she needs to lay (nevermind the fact that we have 2 boxes) she will bossily harrass and torment the poor soul until they can't possibly concentrate enough to lay an egg and hop off.


I wonder what it says about me that I spend so much time talking about my chickens?

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