Now, you'd be forgiven for thinking a kitten, or a small dog had scratched me. But no. It was a tiny, teeny chicken. Namely, this one:
Yep, Flo. In her defence, she was trying to climb her way up on to my shoulder. From her perspective, perhaps I resembled a mountain which needed conquering, and she felt it necessary to break out the crampons. As she scaled my upper torso using her considerable talons for purchase, I had a small amount of time to wonder at the sharpness of her tiny baby nails. I don't think I've ever known a pekin with razor sharp tootsies before. These claws resemble more hawk than domestic poultry, and I find myself trying to remember when I last had a tetanus booster. I am considering flooring the run with sandpaper in an effort to make her less lethal.
Now that my hideous ordeal has been covered, let's move on to the almost unbearable cuteness of baby pekins. The new arrivals have settled in rather well, and we're all a bit in love with them already. Even the ever tolerant husband had a cuddle with the teeny Winnie yesterday evening. There is something about Winnie which reminds me of Maeve at the same age, so I'm expecting her to grow up in to a very handsome bird with a penchant for evil. Could be very interesting. Flo, as well as an enthusiastic climber, is quite noisy. I'm hoping this settles down, or else she and Celia will have to have a sing off.
Celia and Winnie eye each other up.
Flo and Winnie investigating the Palace, safe in the knowledge that the big girls are behind weld mesh.
The adorably tiny Winnie.
I'm off to rub savlon in to my wounds.