For the birds
The chickens in Amy Pataki’s backyard have distinct personalities and impacts on the humans around them. Meet feisty Blair, gentle Julep and zesty Zazu
Restaurant critic Amy Pataki and her family decided to rent chickens this summer. This is the sixth in an occasional series on backyard livestock.
I live with six females: three human, three feathered.
Each has her own qualities, habits and looks.
Parents know this to be true of children — as do chicken experts.
“Each chicken has a unique personality,” says Gail Damerow in the animal husbandry bible Storey’s Guide to Raising Chickens.
So, I felt up to the challenge when my editors asked me to profile our chickens’ personalities.
We’ll start with Julep, the black-andwhite beauty my daughters fought over before they ever met her. Julep is a Plymouth Rock chicken, with a neat red comb that contrasts her barred, or striped, feathers.
A Google image of her breed triggered all three girls to squawk, “She’s mine!” my husband settled the matter by drawing names. (Rebecca won.) Julep is our gentlest chicken. She is easy to pick up, even by visitors. Julep is also the least comfortable being on her own.
When the rest of the flock wanders away from her in the backyard, she runflies after them in a flapping panic.
“She needs to be with the others. She gets distressed if she’s away from them,” notes Rebecca. You can’t confuse the chickens for each other. Blair, for example, is a Red Star. This hybrid of a red male and white female results in coppery plumage laced with ivory. She has inquisitive eyes and a melodious voice. “I used to think Blair was a very docile, calm chicken,” says Ella, her nominal owner.
“Recently she’s become more difficult to manage; very spicy, if you will. But I still love her.”
Blair is the explorer, undaunted by stairs or patio furniture. She strikes out in her own to peck and bathe in the dust.
Zazu is the last bird in the flock. She is a Black Star, a mix of a red male and a barred Plymouth Rock female. Her orange-and-black plumage looks like glowing embers. Zazu was skittish when she arrived — and as fast as a running back. After one 15-minute chase to get her back in the coop, Janos and I had to admit our four combined university degrees didn’t prepare us for farm life. Now that she’s settled in, Zazu is proving quite agreeable. She slays with her long eyelashes, holding a pose for Star photographer Richard Lautens like a model. She’s also the most consistent layer, producing a daily egg since her arrival. Each daughter claims her chicken is at the top of the pecking order. They’ve displaced their sibling rivalry onto the hen house. They bicker about which chicken has the reddest comb or the nicest tone of voice. I’ve heard them claim their chicken lays the most eggs or smells better than the others (not a fact).
We didn’t think having chickens would smooth out the sisters’ relationships, but it has.
Amy Pataki is a Toronto-based restaurant critic and reporter covering all things hospitality. Follow her on Twitter: @amypataki