Here’s Squawky the
Speckled Sussex pullet. Not only is she pretty, but she’s got to be the world’s
friendliest chicken. She makes it hard for me to walk through the chicken run
because she’s always right there with me – right underfoot!
Here's my
super-sweet little Golden Laced Wyandotte pullet, Valerie, who seems to
understand very well how to pose for a picture.
He’s cute! He’s
curly! He’s Cochin! He’s Paul, my frizzled bantam Cochin rooster!
Here’s a pic of
Paula the Salmon Faverolles pullet late last fall, just before the first snow.
All of my current chicken photography is happening indoors since the Hipster
Hens think the whole idea of going out into the snow is insane.
Moe the Salmon
Faverolles says, “Take the picture now! This is my good side!”
A thick frozen
blanket of snow covers the chicken run right now, but every night on the roost
all the Hipster Hens dream about pecking and scratching in the warm soil. This
pic is Nicky (the Chicky) and Marissa Cream Legbar from last summer.
You know those types
who are intelligent AND attractive AND talented AND personable. You would love
to dislike them for their perfection but they’re so intelligent, attractive,
talented, and personable that you just automatically love them! Meet Pippi the
Speckled Sussex Pullet—she’s one of those!
Emile the rooster
spent a night in the basement chicken infirmary at the end of last week. When I
opened the coop door to get the chickens settled in for the night on Friday, I
was horrified to see that Emile was drenched in blood. I immediately assumed
he’d been in some sort of awful rooster fight, but once I gave him a quick exam
it was obvious that wasn’t the problem at all. The very tip of his comb had
gotten frostbitten, and then the scab had gotten dislodged (pecked off by
another chicken?) Chicken combs are filled with capillaries and blood, and if
injured can bleed a LOT! Emile got a trip to the house for a bath and a blow
dry and an application of antiseptic and styptic powder to his wounded comb to
insure proper healing. Early Saturday morning, before sunup, I put him back on
the roost in the dark coop. He was sooo happy to be back home and I’m sure he
couldn’t imagine how the flock ever managed to cope while he was gone.
A shot from last
June: Snowball the Silkie rooster, and his pal, the sweet black Silkie hen,
Emily, who left us in August, but will be loved and remembered always.
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