The Secret Chicken

stories of a secret chicken

Baby, it’s cold outside!


It’s just over 52°F right now, according to Weather Underground.  Cold.  I’ve yet to break down and turn the heat on inside, but I do feel sorry for the poor nekkid chickens out back.

Turken, molting

Turken started out with a naked neck, but now…she’s pretty ridiculous looking.  In fact, Houdini and Sprinkles went through awkward molts this year as well.  Not-Henery just magically changed from old feathers to new, gradually.  No sign of molt yet for Henery or Buttercup.  In fact, Buttercup is the only one still laying eggs.  It’s really too bad, since bartering with eggs is how I get my front yard leaves taken care of…

Oh well.  Guess I’ll go rake, and treat the ladies to some leftover lasagna.  That should warm them up a bit.  Myself?  Maybe after raking, a nice hot Ovaltine.  With a dash of vodka.

Sprinkles, molting

Crazy Talk


This is awesome.

Deputy Mayor Rosemary Kelleher-MacLennan said she opposed allowing chickens and other farm animals in urban centres when Trent Hills is “a very vibrant agricultural” community with farmers who are “trying to make a living”


“Sir, I know you have a perfectly good wife at home, but there are prostitutes out there trying to make a living!”

I don’t get it.  She wants to force people to buy when they can grow or raise their own? That seems kind of…Un-American, somehow. I thought self-sufficiency was something we were supposed to strive for.

Goodfeathers Update


The pigeon we brought home recovered nicely, as previously noted.  He’s integrating nicely with the six lovely ladies in my back yard.

Ok, he’s actually kind of annoying them, but he’s trying and they’ve stopped being actively aggressive towards him.  He started molting around the same time as Sprinkles, and looks pretty goofy (as does Sprinkles, as you can see – she’s the one in the front right there).

Cool thing though – today, I heard him do that funky gurgly-coo that adult pigeons do. Up til now, it’s been nothing but awkward “eeeep”ing. It was pretty cool. He came flying over when I went out to give the ladies their evening scratch, and sat on his ledge cooing.

As you can also see in the picture, he’s terrified of the pug. Ok, no. He actually likes to tease the hell out of the pug. He flies from low perch to low perch, just out of reach of poor Oscar, just enough to keep him running and barking.

I’m sad that winter is coming, if only because my time with the ladies (and gentleman) is going to be so limited from now on, and more so as the season progresses. I’ll be lucky to see them three days a week, come November.

Oh well. The cats are in more now that the wet weather is here, and they’ll keep me company.
(and for those who don’t know Goodfeathers, click.)

You can do this:


Or this: