I'm still hauling some of this spring's pullets out of the boxes. When I reach in and feel the pin cushions I yank my hands back and apologize.
This morning was drizzly. I hung out in the coop for a little while with maybe a dozen of the flock. Barb, a friendly second in command, who is currently in high molt, was preening when Seneca, the largest bird in the flock, decided it was a good time to take a jab at Barb.
I wish I had my camera recording it. The look on Barb's face when she turned around to address Seneca read "are you out of your friggin' skull girl??" Barb proceeded to demonstrate just why she holds second in command and drove that girl out the pop door, sans a few head and neck feathers.
After Seneca was out the door and on the run, Barb stood in the doorway, floofed and shook and about 30 feather fell out around her. I nearly died laughing.