The birthday boy! Our small person, who now shares his birthday with Betty’s feathered babies.
Of six eggs, three chicks have made a successful break out into the world. Two fluffy and yellow as easter decorations and one just as fluffy but as ginger as the PM (JG that is, not the esteemed poultry man). Sadly, one tried to hatch but wasn’t strong enough and died in the process. As my LMF’s husband said – ‘just not enough oomph in its pecker’. Quite. Closer inspection of the remaining two eggs, once Betty had abandoned them, revealed embryos which had never completely developed.
The three survivors are so cute that they don’t quite seem real. Like high-speed, high-pitched, peeping pom-poms, so toy-like they could have hatched from a Kinder Surprise. When they’re not tightly tucked up under Betty’s wings they hop and dart about madly, bumping into each other as they follow Betty about. When they are under her wings they’re truly tucked up, balanced on her legs, riding high above the ground as she carries them from house to garden and back. Occasionally you get a glimpse of a teeny pale beak through her dark feathers.
Small person. Small chicken.