I thought I was sooooo clever naming one of our Buff Orpingtons Buffy. Surely no one has ever been as clever as me. Then I discovered the forums at Backyard Chickens, and learned how disturbingly common my inspiration was. Turns out I’m not the only chicken lover who also loves Joss Whedon. Go figure.
Buffy was one of the most outgoing chicks in the brooder, the first to jump up on my lap, the first to jump up on my shoulder, then onto my head, then peck me in the eye. (Yes, they do. Eyes be shiny.)
And Buffy never met a camera she didn’t like. At first, I thought she might actually be vain, but then I figured out she was just fascinated by her reflection in the glass on the back of my iPhone.
Buffy was the last of our hens to start laying, and she’s still figuring it out. Her first two eggs were night eggs, laid by accident from the roosts as she was sleeping. Miraculously, both eggs survived.
At writing, Buffy has been spending a great deal of time in the nesting boxes, so she’s headed in the right direction.
UPDATE: Full-size, intact Buffy egg laid in the nesting box 10.26.11!
01.04.13: My beloved Buffy was killed today, predator still unconfirmed. She was my joy, probably because we had been through so very much together. If a chicken could go through something, Buffy went through it. She spent a lot of time in the house.
02.04.13: It’s been a month and I still cry for her. Ugh.