I may be weird (in fact, I’m sure of it), but I have always loved chickens. Even as a kid, I made all the chickens my pets and especially the guineas. I guess I was lucky we only used our chickens for eggs and our guineas for grasshopper control, but I loved them. I would sit for hours just watching them and yes, petting them – chickens will let you do that when they spend their whole lives being picked up and carried around. I think the little dark ones in this picture are named Fuzzy and Wuzzy.
See, you’ve got to start when they’re little chicks, get them used to being picked up. I’m pretty sure all my handling of the chickens grossed my mom completely out, but she never stopped me. There are worse things than chicken-hands, I guess. Then again, maybe she had it in for me all along. After all, she didn’t stop me from goofy haircuts, big purple glasses, or stickon earrings, either. Geez Mom, I had nerd written all over me even then!
And now, here I am a grown woman, and I’m still in love with baby birds. Mom, Aunt C, and I went and got a dozen baby guineas and a dozen baby chicks this weekend, and I still could hardly stand to leave knowing they would be twice as big by the time I get back out to the ranch. But I’ve totally grown out of that petting chickens phase.
See, I told you so. Completely past all that. Now I’m more into taking adorable pictures of them. The sign at the store said these were Bantams, which I guess just means whatever, as long as it is a small chicken. We have only ever had brown ones before, but this time they are all colors.
Now we’re all in suspense to see what kind of chickens we have here! Oh, but the guineas are definitely guineas. You’ll notice I don’t have any pictures of them. They were too busy chasing flies, trying to jump out, and pecking my camera to pose for their close-ups. Dang hyperactive birds – I think the whole species has attention deficit disorder. And a strange desire to become turkeys, but that’s another post.