Snowflake, our Rhode Island White, calls out first thing in the morning when she knows I'm up. She also raises quite the fuss at any time during the day when I come back home from being gone, and refuses to quiet down until I pick her up and cuddle and talk to her. Yes, that's right...I have a chicken that thinks she's a dog.
Slippers, our White Cochin. This is the most docile hen we could have hoped for, which sadly ended up costing her all her beautiful tail feathers to Strawberry, a Black-laced Wyandotte and the hen equivalent to Cinderella's evil stepsister. So two weeks ago Strawberry was 'reallocated' to a friend's farm to experience Pecking Order Purgatory for herself. Slippers is finally getting her tail feathers back, but slowly, and only after a lot of Neosporin and baths in the kitchen sink. Uh, yeah....don't ask.
Next, you'll meet our two littlest girls, Rose and Lily. They are harder to photograph because Slippers (who immediately adopted them when we introduced them as chicks) spends most of the time trying to sit on them. This is especially funny considering they are nearly full-grown. You can see what we're up against...poultry with personality. But we love them, and visiting them each morning is a source of delight for AJ, my 7 year-old. There's something immeasurably valuable in being the "big helper", and taking care of creatures that not only provide something from which our family benefits (yummy organic eggs!), but that also have needs he can help to meet. I'm sure you'll agree from these photos that between his penchant for gentle assurances as he collects the eggs, and the Wall-e underwear and ex-church loafers turned coop-clomping shoes, my little Chicken Whisperer is the consummate professional. :)