My little chicken flock is dwindling. I am down to nine chickens out of eleven and maybe even fewer this morning since I have not been out to count beaks yet. Not sure what is going on. So far it has been the little white hens. Maybe a hawk because they are disappearing in the day.
I still have Baby Sister and Tenzing but Peeperton is missing. She was the little chick who had dried into half of the egg shell when she hatched, and had to be soaked in warm water then washed with soap because she smelled like a rotten egg. She was always smaller than the others and just so darned cute, even when she was grown. I am kind of sad about that.
The good news is that it gave me an excuse to buy two more peeps at the farm store this spring. I have no idea what breeds of bantams they are. One I named Bella after the main character in the Twilight books, the girl who loves the vampire but strings along Jacob Black, the beautiful Indian boy shape-shifter. I named her Bella because she has done nothing but peep and complain. I did not have a name yet for the other chick, which proved prophetic. I came home from work to find it had died when it had somehow got stuck behind the water jug. Very sad.
So, I had to buy another one. This latest chick is very quiet. In fact, I was afraid it was sick because it is so silent. I was listening to a Rita Coolidge CD on the way home from the farm store, and it only peeped whenever Rita Coolidge was singing in Cherokee. So, naturally that one is named Cherokee.
The chicken drama continues!
Pictures to follow.