Meet Rosie, or, Rosie the Curious

Rosie is the only remaining chick from April’s hatch.  Rosie remained with us not so much because we chose her to stay, but because she refused to be caught when her siblings relocated to a new farm.  She and her feisty brother remained with us until he started crowing and relocated to the stew pot.  Rosie is the lone survivor, and she’s one tough bird.

Her name came partially from her coloring, as she’s a fellow redhead.  She was also dubbed Rosie for her personality, not so much for her rosie demeanor (not) but for the fact that she’s a toughie, she was named after Rosie the Riveter.

As you can tell by the following photos, she also happens to be Queen of the Evil Eye.

She’s one of the more interesting chickens we’ve ever had.  I call her Rosie the Curious because she just HAS to know what’s on the other side of the fence, or what’s on top of that roof, or where that ladder goes, or what that random object tastes like.  As with any curious creature, she gets herself into trouble quite often.  I’ve found her frantically pacing back and forth on the wrong side of the fence several times, seemingly with no idea how she got over there.

The other day, I found a few lice on one of our birds.  Even though the rest showed no signs of lice, I figured I should treat them all by dusting them with wood ash.  I saved Rosie for last because I knew it would be an epic struggle, and she didn’t disappoint.  It took me 15 minutes just to catch the maniac, and then took everything I had to hold her in the bin for 30 seconds to coat her with ash.  She screeched and squawked, flapped her wings, pushed against me with her feet, stomped, squirmed and finally managed to get away from me in a mad dash.  I can’t even imagine what the neighbors thought I was doing to her with the racket she was putting on.  When she got away she was only half coated in ashes.  I looked at her and said, ‘Eh, you probably don’t have lice anyway.”  Now whenever I come anywhere near her she scurries away while flapping her wings and screeching like a banshee.

Just to prove how crazy this lady is: Rosie is the only bird out of the bunch who would consistently stand up to her brother.  They fought constantly.  Whenever Mr. Roo wasn’t looking, Rosie would scurry up behind him and peck at him.  He’d turn around and they’d bump chests, staring each other down and trying to peck each others eyes out.  You know, basic brotherly/sisterly love.

Rosie is just about to start laying her first eggs, she sings the egg song and goes into the coop every day, but then comes out having left us no treasures.  So, let’s egg her on, shall we?  Is THAT where that phrase came from?!?

Do you have any chickens that stand out from the flock? I’d love to hear all about them in the comments!