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.
(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!!!!!!”