Houston, we have a problem.

Sunday I could tell that one of the chicks was bigger than the others, as well as a darker shade of gold than the other Buff Orpington. Monday the difference became more noticeable. Then this morning, after being gone from home nearly 18 hours I was able to spot, and put my finger on what the problem was.

Our larger, darker chick was no hen.

Overnight the comb had become more prominent, the wattles were much more noticeable than on the others. He was developing the gorgeous dark gold sheen that the Buff Orpington roosters have. What more, he was strutting and bullying the girls.

He is weeks away from crowing, but I looked online and sure enough secondary sexual traits start to show around 4 weeks. They are 3 weeks old today.

The Cockerel

The Pullet

Sad thing is, he is the sweetest of the lot. He loves to be held and stroked. He just turns to mush in your hands. I would have kept him in a second if we were allowed roosters. But with both my mother and I certain we had a cockerel on our hands. I may have kept him until he started crowing but he was picking on the girls and our box was a little to crowded for that.

The feed store in the next zip code agreed to take him. They automatically thought he was as sweet as I found him, and are going to keep in the management office with warm lights until someone wants him.

So, if anyone wants a Buff Orpington cockerel I can tell them where to find a sweetie.

The B.O. Pullet, isn't she cute?

The hen house is coming nicely. The weather forecast for Portland says we will get 5 days of rain starting Friday, our goal is to have it the house done and the girls out there by the time the rain starts. That box is getting way too small!

---A.

The Chicks Come Home

Recently, we found out our city changed the urban chicken ordinances to allow homeowners to have hens! Our family has long wanted to have a flock of laying hens. Like many Portlanders we try to be aware of where our food comes from and how it is produced. The adventures of growing vegetables in our shady backyard were, to say the least, unsuccessful. The nearby farmer's market quickly became a better option than toiling over still green tomatoes in August. Hens seemed a much better match for our yard.

This last week the garden shop down the street advertised that they were going to be getting chicks in on Friday afternoon. Friday afternoon came. We were ready for our fragile baby chicks with a box, heat lamp, food (chick starter), water and grit.

And Friday afternoon went. The chicks never came. The manager forgot to order them. A look on Craigslist and a phone call later we secured five chicks, a mere hour down the freeway. The next morning we picked up five lovely chicks, three weeks old. Three of the chicks are Barred Rock, the remaining two are Buff Orpington.

They are older than we planned. We added two perches for the chicks. They are just beginning to sleep on the perch, although the floor still seems preferred.

The rush of building the hen house started this afternoon, we want to get them moved into the hen house as soon as they out grow the box, which could happen any day if they keep growing at the rate they have in just the last day.

While we were framing the hen house (pictures to come) we were amazed by the warm clear weather, unusual for the Portland area in October. It didn't seem fair that these hardy, healthy girls were kept inside. An upturned laundry basket became a play yard we simply slid to follow the sun. They were delighted, pecking at the grass and peeping happily. Our Dachshund, Tucker, wasn't sure what to make of them. I introduced him to the chicks through the laundry basket. I think at this point he is certain that the are a new type of squeaky toy.

Naming the chicks has become a tricky business. At first the name list consisted old women's names, Gracie, Henny Penny, Mabel, Agnes, Dixie, and Henrietta. The name Yoko was suggested by my stepdad, L. , which quickly degraded to Yolk-o. Now Eggo is suggested.

The only named chick is a Barred Rock with marking near her eyes and beak who has been dubbed Henrietta. I claimed her. Slowly, after much observation I have been able to tell each chick apart.

Tomorrow, construction on the hen house continues, probably with more chick pictures. Pictures and eventually design directions to follow.

---A.