The chicks feathered out fast. It was time to make the move from the brooder to the big fenced in coop. Only two had a little personality, the rest were just chickens.
Elizabeth was white with some grey spots. She was very friendly and really liked to sit on Wayne’s shoulders.
Then there was Prissy. Prissy was the most beautiful Polish Hen - even prettier than the pictures in the catalogue. She was solid white, petite, and wore a perfectly round poof of feathers, like a drum major’s helmet, atop her head. She marched around, feathers in her eyes, doing her own damn thing. Couldn’t see shit. Her number one rule was No Touching. She was a real bitch about it.
Prissy was my favorite.
Excerpt from Care & Feeding by Chela Gutierrez
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