She's an Ameraucana. Puffy cheek-feathers, little pea-comb.
She and Daisy were born this spring.
Daisy started laying eggs four months ago, but Fern
has shown no sign of ever laying any stupid ol' eggs,
thank-you-very-much.
Fern's just too busy to grow up.
She's always on her toes.
Fern is quick to warn the flock of danger,
using the universal chicken-alarm that is reserved for hawk sightings, foxes and other very scary things:
She's a vigilant little chicken, on guard for any threat.
Fern's at the very bottom of the pecking order.
Normally you'd expect a hen in that position to be timid and to keep out of everyone's way.
But Fern -- she breaks all the rules of chicken-etiquette.
...like: Never charge full-speed at your superiors.
This always results in a good plucking.
Also:
She's had some close calls with that one.
And this---
If you're unfamiliar with chicken-etiquette, this may look like a cute little dance.
But let me tell you.
This is so totally rude. I mean you just don't do this if you want to live.
But Pigeon's not offended. She's amused.
Pigeon adores Fern.
Here Fern's coming back for more.
. . . . . . . . . .
With all this plucking going on, I've managed to collect some nice samples of her plumage billowing around the yard:
And here's how those feathers looked when they were still attached to Fern:
Another endearing little visual:
Fern's butt-feathers are in the shape of a heart.
. . . . . . . . . . .
I let the girls out for some free-range time every day.
And every day Fern sprints from the forsythia to the bird feeder and back again - over and over and over.
It's an adorable sight.
Took me a while to see exactly what she is doing:
Chickadees, Nuthatches...
Is she racing them?
Does she think she's a chickadee?
She's a free-wheelin' little mystery, Fern.
And Pigeon is a mystery to me too --
that she understands Fern's playful taunting.
Her sensitivity to all the individuals in her flock is uncanny.
....next post: PIGEON: Blind Wisdom
