a new daddy’s pride

The hen house/hot house construction has had more delays than a government 

project, but the chickens arrived yesterday and hit the ground running.  Because

I didn’t have their accommodations secure from predators yet, the six ladies spent

last night in the dog carrier Jude used to pick them up at the feed store.  Here’s two

of them, doing some synchronized chicken thing:

Slinkee and I went to the coop this morning to check the girls.  The door to the 

carrier was open and I couldn’t see any of them at first.  My first impression, of

course, was a Taliban raid.  But they were there, three huddled in the back of the

carrier and three behind it.

I had Slinkee on a leash because she had shown an enormous curiosity about the

fowl last night.  She wasn’t sure if they were new playmates or fresh meat — or a

meal she could play with first.  I quickly put her in the cab of the nearby truck

and hastened to herd the chickens back in the carrier.  There were seven eggs

 in the straw bedding.  Please share my new daddy pride:

My offspring  encircle a “large” store-bought egg.  Jude cracked one to check out the

yolk color.

Our neighbours who raise chickens tell us that the colour will get richer as the girls

eat more weeds, grass and organic mash.

I did a lot of ‘net research before starting the coop.  Several sources suggested paint-

ing the nesting boxes different colours to give the hens some variety.  I did.

There’s another box on the right end that I couldn’t fit into the photo, a nice, shiny

ebony.  I was explaining the variety to a friend.  He said “Oh, I get it.  The black one

is for Goth chicks.”