We all have one

Everybody that I know that keeps chickens has one. You know, one of those chickens that's a totally peculiar character and virtually NOTHING like all the other chickens.

And I certainly have one. Or two. We all know each hen (and rooster) has their own character and is unique in their own way, with their peculiar little habits and ways that endear them to us so.

But Chicky-Boo certainly tops the lot. She has bright, intelligent eyes and a lovely loving nature, but she is the 'glutton' of the family. When I'm dishing out snacks, she's always first in line, snatching. Snatching from my hand, snatching mid-air, snatching from the other hens' mouths and running around in a frenzy, picking up as many snacks as she can.

Chicky-Boo (on the left) risking even the wrath of the normally placid Doris, who never interferes with anybody. 

In the garden she will follow somebody closely and as they get ready to zoom in on an insect or some tasty morsel, she would fly in, getting there first and gobbling it up.

A stunned and amazed Artemis watches as Chicky-Boo rushes off with the bread he was busy eating. 

This behaviour has not endeared her to the other chickens. She's ended up at the bottom of the pecking order, often having to flee as one or other hen attacks her.

But maybe she was at the bottom of the pecking order all along, learning that she's got to be quick if she wants to get any food at all. As a baby, she was one of the hens with Fowl Pox that I was treating inside for a few weeks. She recovered really well, and once I returned her to the flock, maybe her absence for such a long time caused her to be the 'outsider'.

Even with her crop filled to bursting, she keeps a close eye on me for more. 

And sometimes I'd get worried as she would just keep on eating and eating. As long as there is food, she would eat, until her crop would be huge and extended. Can't be good...

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