Three cheers for our Araucana pullets! The aptly named Hot Dog was the first to graduate to laying hen. And I am so excited. It even (if you can believe it) brought out a little dorky in me. I had to call my husband at work, where he was engaged in VIEM (very important engineering meeting) and couldn't be disturbed. So I left a long, detailed message with one of the other guys.
"You see, Hot Dog is just barely five months old. And we've been waiting for these blue-green eggs since she was two days old. And I can hardly contain myself. Please have him call me." All the while the rooster was literally crowing in the background since I called from the henhouse and it was messing with his morning routines. So it sounded like this: "Cock-a-dooodle-doo. She's a brown and red hen with hints of gray. Crock-a-doodle. She's so much bigger than the other pullets -- are you getting all this? -- and I'm sure she cock-a-doodle is a few weeks ahead of them. It's tiny and perfectly robin's-egg blue! So you'll have him call?"
The message he received read: "Call your wife. New egg laid. She's a proud mama hen."
Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Madeleine's cat was watching over Flo the fish.
You don't keep a betta in a Mason jar? Oh. Well, we don't usually either, but someone-who-won't-cop-to-it added an actual seashell to our tank. The salt residue killed our two aquatic frogs but we saved Flo. Out of the frying pan into the fire, it would appear.