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The Saga of Aunt Shorty - Hot to Pot

This is the story of my friend's Silkie hen Aunt Shorty.

Aunt Shorty Takes a Bath

Aunt Shorty was my father's aunt. She was a 4 foot 5 or so Sicilian hill woman. She carried a baseball bat with which she often defended my father who was apparently a bad boy when he was little. My dad still has a knack for ticking people off, but Aunt Shorty is alas, no longer with us. Aunt Shorty the Silkie chicken, once she got out of the mailing box, promptly tried to peck my Rhode Island Red into submission. This is how she earned her name. She continues to live up to it.

Dauntless Defender of Clay Pot

The continuing saga of Shorty and her pot: It's very cold here. We got up yesterday and moved Mr. Pot away from the fence and up against the house, figuring she'd be a little warmer. When it was egg time we put her in the pot, just in case. I look out the window one hour later and there's Madame Shorty doing the psycho, I need my nest, clucking strut. We went and put her back on the pot. 15 minutes later, there's Shorty, still going postal. I said, "Put the pot back where it was!" 15 seconds later, Shorty is back in the pot, laying her egg. I guess Mr. Pot must not be messed with!

Chickens!

Hot to Pot

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