There are more babies in the coop. Millie has hatched out at least three of the eggs she's been sitting on. Unfortunately Pearl tried to kidnap them and call them her own. We had two hens, the babies and the eggs all crammed into a tiny little bantam nest box. Of course trying to remove Pearl caused wide-spread panic and chaos. You have to be careful when when chaos ensues and bantam babies are involved. They're so tiny you could easily step on them. One even managed to leave the coop and enter the run. I on the other hand managed to get in a serious workout trying to catch the little bugger then trying to catch Pearl. I imagine it looked a lot like a Family Circus cartoon. The baby is now back safe in the nest and Pearl is in the slammer until she promises not to kidnap them again. She might be in there for awhile.
The babies are part of my ongoing experiment to get cheeky chicks like Jack's boy here. I really need to come up with a name for him and his sister. Nothing has come to me yet.
The fluffy cheeks are called muffs. Makes me think of the muff I had when I was a kid. It was a tube made of soft white fur and had a large string attached to it. You wore it around your neck and kept your hands inside of it to keep them worm. Man, I loved that thing. It was so soft.
Oh yeah, anyway, I'm attempting to narrow down my bantams to chickens with muffs. There are so many breeds out there one really must try to focus. So I've decided I'm only keeping the ones with fat, chubby cheeks.
That's bad news for old Lazarus or Liza or Tootsie or whatever his name is. Or maybe it's good news? Maybe some kind person will come and take him away to a coop of his own filled with beautiful bantam hens? That's what has happened to little Skippy here. Someone is picking him up tomorrow morning.
"Thank you, Lord. Thank you. I promise to be the best rooster ever. Thank you. You won't regret this. Oh, thank you."