Yarrr, matey!

There is a lot of cultural interest in pirates these days, what with news about the real-life Somali pirates, and also the dashing Pirates of the Caribbean (fake pirates who enjoy commensurately more public sympathy).

And the swashbuckling young Orpingtons want in on some of that pirate-themed action! Now, not to toot my own pirate horn, but the Orpingtons are very lucky to have me here. I currently have a bum leg--hopefully it will not come to a peg leg--AND I can do a very respectable pirate voice. I even have a pirate name generated for me by a website many years ago. With a chicken riding around on my shoulder, all I need is a machete and a boat...soon chicken and I will be the terror of the high seas!

Or, since I do not particularly like to go on boats, maybe we will ride on a horse, and be the terror of the high...fields.

In the meantime, watch for my new line of children's books about horseback chicken pirates. 10% of the profits will go to buying overripe plums, which--the young chickens discovered today--are extremely amazing and delicious. A good way for a young pirate chicken to fend off scurvy.
It's a pirate's life for us!

No, THIS is how we snuggle.

Last year, I spent a lot of time patiently explaining to the crop of little chicks, "Nooo, chicken, we're snuggling." By and large, those chicks remained unconvinced.

This time around, I have been spending more hang-out time with the chicks, bringing them treats, watching them run around, and just generally chilling. The Orpingtons are the friendliest of the bunch, and they like to climb into my lap, where they are content to be held and stroked and snuggled a little. When they really want to settle in, though, they clamber along my arm to my elbow, and wriggle their heads insistently between my arm and my body. They'll fall asleep like this, or go for a ride as I walk around.
Often a second Orpington will also have a snuggly feeling, and it will want to snuggle in the crook of the SAME arm. Not the OTHER arm, no no no! No, the second Orpo will get right in there with the first one, wedging its way in, smooshing the other chicken, often stepping on it. Both chickens seem happy with the setup, even though it looks uncomfortable. If I try to separate them so they each have an elbow to themselves, my help is not appreciated.

They say, "Noooo, lady, we're snuggling!" and go back to how they were.

Well. I stand corrected.

One MEELION feets

One of the duties of a Mother Hen is to occasionally call all her babies over for a warming snuggle. The babies come toddling and scurrying over in response to the call, and Mama flaps her wings and shuffles her feet and scoops them with her head until they are all tucked underneath her. Quickly, the scene changes from hen-and-chicks to...just hen.

During all the hustle and bustle, it is sometimes possible to see what is going on beneath the hen. Once the babies get under there, the vast Mothership is right above them, still moving around a little to gather everyone in, and the little guys have no idea which way is forward. So all the babies just stand around under there, stock still, facing any which way. Their bodies are obscured by the hen's feathers, and only their legs are visible. So on the whole, the Mama appears to be standing on one normal-sized pair of legs and about 16 tiny, string-sized, additional legs, pointing in all different directions.

And then she sits on them. Ploomp!Given the astonishing quickness with which this all happens (not to mention the awkward angle, and the fact that the hen never wants to do this right up close to me), I have yet to photograph the elusive Many-Footed Hen. The closest I have come is this picture. The hen's wings are already down, giving the chicks coveted access to her wing-pits for snuggling but blocking their forest of feets from view. Only the chickie in the veeery front has visible legs...but there are seven MORE sets just like that under there, and it is hilarious. Picture it...now.

Madam, what has happened to your rear?

We have four Buff Orpington hens, three of which look pretty much like this fine lady here. Though she is turning away from the camera, you can see her red comb and wattle pigment. She also sports a standard-issue rump, with a nice feathery tail.

Then there is the fourth Orpington. She has no tail to speak of, and her comb and wattles are pale. Wondering about these differences, I turned to the interweb. A google serach for the exact phrase "assless Orpington" returned no results. Then I found that chicken fanciers have a much less vulgar vocabulary than my own: the correct term for types of chickens deficient in the booty is "rumpless." But, it turns out, there is no such thing as a "rumpless Orpington."

In the end (so to speak), it seems most likely that this hen has been bullied, and the bullies have removed her tail feathers. Orpingtons are kind of gentle, and apparently may be bullied by other breeds. This paints the other hens in an unflattering light, in which I do not like to think of them. When the new chicken habitat is finished, this chicken--and the other Orpingtons--will live in a separate habitat for peaceable chickens.

Ta-daaah!

Sometimes, you just have to make a stuffed chicken. I had some yellow fabric so I decided I would make an Orpington. I had big plans for making this chicken's tail, face, and cute little feet.
Things turned out...okay. I made up the pattern, and the first chicken that resulted from my made-up pattern was kind of long and skinny. (I have yet to design a pattern where the first product isn't longer and skinner than I thought it would be, even though I really try to draw the pattern very fat.) I am happy with the cute little feet, and fairly happy with the tail. The smile is kind of a problem though: from some angles it is cute and from some angles it is unsettling, like if the Mona Lisa had a chicken. Perhaps I should stick with OUTRAGE and its friend contentment.