In the world of chickens, pecking order is not just some trite phrase.
It's dead serious business.
And I'm trying to stay out of it.
I'm Switzerland.
Well, unless all out war begins. Then I will be Teddy Roosevelt.
In just a few hours of observation, you'd have to be a dillweed not to figure out what's going on.
Though there are nuances that I am still puzzling out.
One thing for sure is I know who is at the bottom of the pecking order.
But first, I present you with our version of the Great American Coop Out.
After they had eaten their breakfast inside the coop, I opened their little door and moved off to see what would happen.
I was not at all surprised when the white chicken led the way...
She's the leader in all things new.
I also saw her this morning pecking at the chicken waterer first. Everyone else followed suit.
I took each hen yesterday and tapped their beak to the water nipple and showed them what it was for. They let me pick them up pretty easily. They are fairly docile, for which I am grateful.
Anyway, out she came and started grazing right away.
And here comes the nuanced part of the pecking order.
This chicken poked her head out next..
Okay, I thought. Here's #2 in the line up.
But no, she changed her mind mid ramp...
"Scary!" Was her exclamation.
So, this made way for the larger golden laced hen.
"This is how it's done."
So #2 wannabe followed probably chiding herself for being such a putz.
She was missing out on the choicest dandelions. [This seems to be the preferred green today.]
While the other hens were busy with pecking order protocol, the last hen was busy at the water bucket, happily undisturbed for once.
But when she perceived that she was alone in the coop, she calmly strode out with the most grace of the four.
[Sometimes there is security in knowing your place and accepting it with dignity.]
And it came to me, just like that. Her name.
Here I must humbly apologize, because my mother said she wanted to buy one of the chickens for me. And I told her of course, and she could name it. When she saw the pictures yesterday, she chose this hen. Mom, I hope you don't mind… but I think her name is… I mean I heard it clear as a bell….
Little Miss.
If she ever goes broody and hatches chicks of her own, you can name them ALL. :-)
***
So the delights of the chicken run were now being enjoyed by all. [I saw a worm being dispatched at one point.]
Meanwhile, in her section of the yard, Sunny was…. well…. doing her creepy stalker impersonation.
"Gimmey chicken dinners. Let me at 'em."
We had to have a little talk afterward. A lot of … Not for you Sunny… Bad dog…. Don't even THINK about it...
I don't know if she was listening though.
She doesn't LOOK like she was listening does she?
I don't know HOW I am going to get anything done today except Hen Watch.
She's the leader in all things new.
I also saw her this morning pecking at the chicken waterer first. Everyone else followed suit.
I took each hen yesterday and tapped their beak to the water nipple and showed them what it was for. They let me pick them up pretty easily. They are fairly docile, for which I am grateful.
Anyway, out she came and started grazing right away.
And here comes the nuanced part of the pecking order.
This chicken poked her head out next..
Okay, I thought. Here's #2 in the line up.
But no, she changed her mind mid ramp...
"Scary!" Was her exclamation.
So, this made way for the larger golden laced hen.
"This is how it's done."
So #2 wannabe followed probably chiding herself for being such a putz.
She was missing out on the choicest dandelions. [This seems to be the preferred green today.]
While the other hens were busy with pecking order protocol, the last hen was busy at the water bucket, happily undisturbed for once.
But when she perceived that she was alone in the coop, she calmly strode out with the most grace of the four.
[Sometimes there is security in knowing your place and accepting it with dignity.]
And it came to me, just like that. Her name.
Here I must humbly apologize, because my mother said she wanted to buy one of the chickens for me. And I told her of course, and she could name it. When she saw the pictures yesterday, she chose this hen. Mom, I hope you don't mind… but I think her name is… I mean I heard it clear as a bell….
Little Miss.
If she ever goes broody and hatches chicks of her own, you can name them ALL. :-)
***
So the delights of the chicken run were now being enjoyed by all. [I saw a worm being dispatched at one point.]
Meanwhile, in her section of the yard, Sunny was…. well…. doing her creepy stalker impersonation.
"Gimmey chicken dinners. Let me at 'em."
We had to have a little talk afterward. A lot of … Not for you Sunny… Bad dog…. Don't even THINK about it...
I don't know if she was listening though.
She doesn't LOOK like she was listening does she?
I don't know HOW I am going to get anything done today except Hen Watch.