new chicken pictures

Josh has some new chick photos. They’re going through the first molt and looking distinctly motheaten. Enough feathers have come in that you can hear a loud taffeta rustle from them now.

Right now they’re in a cardboard box that gives them about four square feet. This should be enough for three chicks of that age, and if it weren’t for the Delaware it probably would be. But the Delaware is a hyper nutcase. That chicken is trouble, all right. I read her the chicken catalog description — “a lovely calm breed” — and she was predictably unimpressed. I think we’re going to have to double their space very soon.

The length of their necks keeps astonishing me. They seem almost neckless, and then suddenly they’re all neck.

If you dangle a ribbon into their box, they attack it madly, shrieking. “We’re training ninja chickens, you know,” remarked Josh yesterday. (Yeah, except for the whole stealth thing. I think they’re more in the berserker line.) I thought of that today when I was handling the chickens and saw that a little scab on my arm had come loose. The Delaware was happily drinking my blood. This has got to be a bad sign. Unless we want bloodthirsty attack chickens, and I suppose there’s something to be said for that.

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