Once again we have chickens. DH set up a lovely, sun-filled coop for them. and we were pleased to see that they were thriving. Except for one. The different one. I HATE most chickens because they are the original Mean Girls. They were pecking the different chicken to death, and I went craaazy when I saw him off by himself, quietly bleeding. His right wing was lacerated and I started screaming for DH, who rescued him and put him in a cage by himself. A private suite! We put a healing salve on his little wing and gave him his own heat lamp, food and water. We both spend a little time with him each day, talking to him and feeding him bugs, as special treats. He’s getting better, but he may never have the full use of that right wing. I’ve no idea whether he’s a he, or a she, or what kind of chicken he is, but he’s now my pet. I refer to all the coop chickens as either Olivia Palermo or Jill Zarin, after two reality show women who exhibit similar behaviors, and are such Mean Girls that they should be related to each other, and the coop chickens.
I’m trying to identify what kind of chicken Miss Freddie is, so I’m going to post her/his picture, and if anyone recognizes Miss Freddie’s feathery legs as being typical of a certain breed, please let me know. One more thing … Miss Freddie also has no tail feathers.
Can you tell that one of my favorite fairy tales from childhood was The Ugly Duckling?