Twenty-four days have gone by and, surprisingly, all six chicks are still with us. They are a resilient little gang who have tolerated our frequent pesterings, a few prolonged absences and our incessant fawning. We have spent a lot of time watching them develop their ‘chickenalities’ (TM) and building relationships with each of them.
Don’t give them names. If they have names, then they are pets. It’s hard to eat a pet.
Too late! (and kind of disturbing advice). Our six chicks have names. Since our ultimate goal is to have three egg-laying hens and one rooster, most of them are pets and require names that suit them. Initially, I had envisioned names that matched the delicious egg dishes we would prepare with their eggs – Benny; Pickled; Souffle; Frittata; Deviled; Pudding; Brulee; Coddled; etc.
But, as we watched them over the first few days, we had to give them names so that we could tell them apart. The names we doled out generally had something to do with their appearance or their demeanour. It seems that these temporary nicknames have stuck, as nicknames tend to do.
Before you jump to the photos, you have to be warned that these little muffins are in the ugly ‘tween’ years and they currently look ratty, scrawny and almost scary! I guess they are almost half-way to adulthood so their appearance is similar to the pimply, buck-toothed, frizzy hair stage that we all went through. Consider them, if you will, to be 13 year olds.