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Once upon a time, there was a little chick named Lucky. He was the lone hatchling from the Great Incubator Disaster of 2008. (You can read Lucky’s story here.) Lucky–despite his moniker of good fortune–was unlucky in that he was alone. And lonely. Every chick needs another chick to rub fluff with and snuggle up to under the heat lamp.
It was a happy day when the second batch I’d put in the incubator started hatching. The very next little chick born was this sweet, adorable thing.

We named her Tatiana, and Lucky was so glad to have her company.
Of course, it’s always a bad idea to make assumptions about the sex of chicks right after they hatch. Lucky turned out to be a beautiful hen.

And Tatiana–

(Morgan, leaning out the car window as I hang back in fear and dread because Mean Rooster is lurking by the driver’s side door. Waiting for me. He likes to do creepy stuff like that.)

Morgan: “IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT FOR NAMING HIM TATIANA!!!!!!”
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"It was a cold wintry day when I brought my children to live in rural West Virginia. The farmhouse was one hundred years old, there was already snow on the ground, and the heat was sparse-—as was the insulation. The floors weren’t even, either. My then-twelve-year-old son walked in the door and said, “You’ve brought us to this slanted little house to die." Keep reading our story....
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Ummm, yeah, I guess that could cause some very major, deep rooted antisocial tendencies. Imagine the ridicule he received from the hens………..
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We sadly had to give one of our roosters away. When we put them back in the same run, they attacked each other. Feathers, blood torn combs–not a pretty sight. We kept the mean one since he was a perfect gentleman while the other one was at the fair and he would surely fight the other roosters at the new farm. George has 8 girlfriends now all to himself! He even lets me pick him up and put neosporin on his wounds–such a baby. I want to make sure it is well healed before winter hits!
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Wouldn’t want to meet him though. I would be as skittish as Suzanne!!
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