size
Alektorophobia keeps size in one place: 6 stories so far. The section currently leads with “Bantam or Bust: Our Egg-citing Size Mystery Unfolds”, “New Chicks, Big Grief, and a Quarantine Cluck-tastic Challenge”, and “These Gigantic Chickens Tower Over Me, and I'm 5'9"!”. So, I candled an egg today and thought, "Well, now I know Dawn isn't the father because of the fetus's size." Then I realized I know absolutely nothing about chicken size genetics. We buried Big Chick with the solemnity she deserved, which honestly just meant I cried into a handful of feathers while her sister judged me from the fence. Chickens. Everything there is to know about chickens and the fear of them. The list below is every size story on Alektorophobia, newest first.
Bantam or Bust: Our Egg-citing Size Mystery Unfolds
So, I candled an egg today and thought, "Well, now I know Dawn isn't the father because of the fetus's size." Then I realized I know absolutely nothing about chicken size genetics. Classic me, jumping to conclusions like a hen on a hot griddle. We've got Storm, an average-sized naked neck, and Dawn, a bantam, so who's the real daddy? It's a cluck-tastic mystery, and I'm here for the fowl play. This whole adventure reminds me of our piece on those tiny chicken tails that are three weeks of pure heart-melting magic, because sometimes the smallest things surprise us most. Bantam or bust, I guess we'll find out when this chick hatches.
New Chicks, Big Grief, and a Quarantine Cluck-tastic Challenge
We buried Big Chick with the solemnity she deserved, which honestly just meant I cried into a handful of feathers while her sister judged me from the fence. Now I'm staring at two Salmon Favorelles who are supposedly 8 or 9 weeks old, but folks, these birds are built like they've been hitting the gym since spring. They're bigger than our Orp was at 9 weeks, and I'm starting to think the lady's calendar was lying. We're two weeks into quarantine, and the coop's ready, but I'm holding off until week four because rushing integration feels like asking for fowl play. Little bud's catching up in size daily, which gives me hope. If anyone's navigated this dance before, drop your wisdom.
These Gigantic Chickens Tower Over Me, and I'm 5'9"!
Standing next to one of these Brazilian Índio Gigantes, my 5'9" feels more like a suggestion than a measurement. These birds don't just cluck; they *tower*. It's honestly equal parts awe and a little bit of "should I be backing away slowly?" The sheer size is the first thing you notice, but what keeps me coming back is how every generation seems to level up. They're a beautiful breed, no doubt, and raising them is a genuine reward for anyone who appreciates a feathered friend with a serious presence. It's a lovely reminder of how our own backyard adventures, like the one in *Chickens Got Her Good!*, always keep us on our toes. Just try not to blink, or you might miss them growing.
Cluck-tastic Scump is the feathered hero our flock never knew we needed.
Scump sounds like an absolute legend, and honestly, she might be too smart for her own good. A chicken who defends the bullied and squares up to bulldogs? That's not just sweet, that's a tiny feathered superhero with a serious napoleon complex. Her size is her only real flaw, and it's a doozy when she's convinced she can take on anything that looks at her Jersey Giants wrong. I love the house chicken idea, especially since you work from home. The real challenge isn't her smarts, it's her little heart breaking when she thinks she's missing out. Maybe a window perch near your office could let her keep an eye on you without the full-on screaming match.
That's No Lady… That's My Feathered Friend?
Well, that's quite the morning wake-up call. A crowing "lady" at just 15 weeks old? Talk about a plot twist in the hen house. This beefy black bird is double the size of the others, with feet that mean business and a crown that's stealing the show. Honestly, the evidence is piling up like… well, you know. It sounds like your high-dollar, color-specific egg venture might have a rooster on its hands. Sometimes, you get exactly what you pay for, and sometimes you get a surprise that ruffles your feathers. It's a classic case of fowl play, and you've got to laugh to keep from crying. For anyone else navigating the fine art of chicken-keeping, this little story is a cluck-tastic cautionary tale.
Sweet Pea's a mystery, but her cluck-tastic rescue story's just beginning.
Well, color me intrigued! Sweet Pea sounds like a tiny feathered mystery with a construction-grade origin story, and I'm already invested in her cluck-tastic future. Finding her on a truck, parched and hungry, is a rough start, but she's landed in good hands now. Since you're used to ISA browns, I bet you're wondering if she'll match their size or egg color, and honestly, that's anyone's guess until she grows into her feathers. She could be a scrappy little layer or a bigger breed entirely. It's egg-citing to play the guessing game, though. For a fun read on similar feathered surprises, check out "Chickens Got Her Good! A Backyard Poultry Adventure." For now, give her time, water, and a little TLC.