These are laying hens in the evening setting sun.
Very pastural, yes?
This is not.
"What? Me? Not pastural?"
No, in fact, this morning I discovered that creature right here, that I was told may be part Buff Orpington and, therefore, called Buffy (do I have a way with names or what?) is NOT a hen.
I normally get up, shower, have coffee, then walk out to the chicken coop (heaven help me, still in my bathrobe!) and let the "girls" out of the coop and into their fenced run, then finish getting ready for work. This morning at about 7:00 a.m., I heard Buffy let loose an awkward crow. Then another crow. Then three more crows.
Yes, Buffy is now just Buff. I was hoping, against hope, that this was a hen. I was looking forward to seeing the eggs she would lay. I was looking forward to having a hen that was a little different from my standard brown laying hens. Now I have a rooster.
Ahhhhh, but I don't have just one rooster. Observe if you will, Bruce.
This hunk of husky-legged, glossy black/green developing tail feathers is Bruce. Bruce hasn't crowed yet, but I wouldn't be shocked to hear him answer Buff in the next few days. He will be a very handsome fellow when he is fully mature.
Aaaannnnndddd……
… may I present Nugget. Nugget was hatched out the same time as the deceased Raven. Nugget is younger than Buff and Bruce. Nugget has a big set of legs, too. You know where I'm going with this. I have a feeling that the only little hen that I bought when I got those four young birds was Raven. But what the heck do I know? Maybe she would have grown up to be a gorgeous black rooster. NOBODY needs that many roosters.
Life with chickens. Husband did crack a double yolker today, so at least there's that.
