After a year of reading and considering, the kids and I went and picked up some pullets from our local Tractor Supply Company. The kids have named "their" chicks, and in Erin's words, "Of course the boys couldn't give them lady names." Here are our pullets:
Dwight. She was being picked on in the giant galvanized tub when we got her, and she's spent some time in the infirmary at our house (a.k.a. the bathtub). Here she is doing two of the three things chickens do best: posing and pooping.
Puff, one of the girls Erin named. She's more mellow and falls asleep when she's being held.
Kevin (in case you can't guess, the kids have been watching The Office recently).
Ruby, my chicken, according to the kids. She is too curious for her own good. When our dog comes up to the fence, she's the chicken headed over to check out the situation. I'm kind of partial to her.
Baby J will be renamed by a close friend. The boys are NASCAR fans and apparently Jimmy Johnson and his wife didn't have a name picked out for their baby when it arrived, for whatever reason, and people started calling it "Baby J". I have no idea what the child's name is now, but our chick is a Baby J for the time being.
And Maximus. She's the smallest of the group and Morgan gave her a big name.
Those pictures were taken a mere four days ago and the girls look very different now. Their feathers are coming in, they're roosting, and the Chicken Tractor is getting built this weekend for a few of them. They spend some time each afternoon under the top of my Square Foot Garden lid practicing scratching and pecking at bugs. Falling asleep in the grass and weeds is also a popular chicken past time. We're very excited about improved compost, bug and tick eating in the yard, as well as fresh eggs and entertainment!