What's new? Not eggs. Not here. At least there's been no more crowing, so we are going on the assumption that the 3 chicas we have left are in fact girls and not chicos. But other than them being chicas, we are finding very little to credit them with.
They do not lay. They do not come when we call them. Sometimes they can't even figure the way out of their coop. They squabble. They poop. They cackle. They dirty their water and tear up the lawn. They ate the violas.
Fantam the Dark Bantam is in the foreground, and Buttercup, the Golden Wyandotte, well, I call her Frida. Nothing about her suggests "butter," so it seemed fitting to give her a new name.
Alex put it best when he said, "It's a good thing they are so funny."
It is 'a good thing they are so funny,' because these goofy, cute, fluffy, awkward, flighty birds are otherwise utterly nonsensical.
Why do I love them so?