Silky

This is the only picture I have of our mean rooster. He likes to attack small children-- small children AND my mother, who I suppose looks rather like a small child. I appreciate him, but I'm tired of the girls having to carry croquet mallets when they search for eggs.

This fall, he and his seven red ladies may be transformed into long-simmered winter stews.

Readers, meet Silky.
So long, Silky?