Chickens: Winged Therapists of the Yard
There’s never a dull moment around feathered friends.
I grew up around chickens. I love birds in general, but chickens are truly the comic relief of the barnyard. It’s almost impossible to be in a bad mood around a flock of chickens, as they cackle, peck, and scratch. Each bird has their own personality and idiosyncratic habits. For example, Billie, the big white hen pictured above is a singer rather than a cackler. We don’t normally think of chickens as songbirds, but Billie will serenade me while I tend to the garden. Her portrait looks fierce, but that’s just an RBF. (Resting Business Face) She’s actually quite sweet and friendly. Her sister Harriet, who looks almost exactly like her, was not gifted with the same talent, but she is a brave explorer. In fact, I’ve had to escort her back home a few times after adventures.
I have about twenty other birds, a mixed flock of mostly buff orpingtons, (big, fluffy birds) and Easter Eggers, chickens who lay unusual colored eggs.
Mine two elderly Easter Egger girls don’t lay regularly anymore, but occasionally they’ll give me a blue or olive colored egg.
My flock gentleman is Sir Eggavah. Don’t ask me why his title is Sir Eggavah. My son named him. He was hatched as a surprise, a cross between a leghorn and buff orpington…
