Habemus Pullum!: New Chickens Have Come Home to Roost

This isn’t a full return to the Monday Morning Chicken days of yore, but it is Monday, and it’s sorta morningish, so make of it what you will.

The fact is: habemus pullum! (Yeah, I’m sure I declined that one wrong. Look, I was a straight-C student in Latin. Gimme a break.)[NOTE: Maggie D. says I used the singular instead of the plural. It should be pullos. I’m not changing it so that my shame may endure for all to see.]

It’s March, and March is time for the new chickens to make their debut on the world stage. Hatched just last week are the three new additions to our coop.

First, we have the one who appears to be our alpha chick: Loretta, the Barred Rock.

“I was born a coal miner’s daughter.”

She’s a feisty ball of fire who likes perching, chasing other chickens, and long walks on the beach. Her favorite musical artist is probably Jimmy Buffett.

And here’s Carrie, the Golden Hubbard Comet:

“The sum of the square root of two sides of an isosceles triangle is equal to the square root of the third side.”

Carrie is our Velma: the bookish, quiet member of the flock. Imagine her wearing glasses and carrying a volume of Proust. Her favorite musical artist is probably Bach. Carry is also a sex-link, which sounds like it should something wild and interesting, but in fact it just means that the hens and the roosters are different colors at hatching, so we know we’re not getting a useless, noisy, aggressive rooster. Helpful!

Finally, we have Dolly, our Buff Orpington:


She’s our affectionate, happy-go-lucky chick. She likes Harry Potter, drawing, and watching old movies. He favorite music is Taylor Swift. She also likes sleeping on my chest.

Awww! Now I can never eat you! Clevah gurl!

And here’s Dolly and Carrie doing their imitation of the Roc from 7th Voyage of Sinbad:

Yes, they’re all named after country singers. (I was lobbying for Emmylou rather than Carrie.) So far, they’ve been true to their names: they just never stop singing. Truly, if we could translate their peeping, they would probably be singing about the rooster what done them wrong.

Oh, and we got a hamster too. Her name is Bertie (as in Wooster):

“Jeeves! You must help me or I shall have to marry Madeleine Basset!”