In an informal survey of local chicken people, I’ve found you either don’t name your chickens at all or you name them something OUTRAGEOUS. One friend names her chickens after current and past divas (Beyonce, Cher, etc), another had a broody banty named Pancake. I wasn’t sure what category we would fall in to. When we were chicken-sitting last year four of the speckled sussex birds looked exactly the same, plus they belonged to our friend’s 4 year old, and nobody loves to name things like a kid.
This winter when we started our own flock, we had a little more diversity with three Ameraucanas/Easter Eggers, a Silver Lace Wyandotte, and two Barred Rocks. After a month of describing the hens to each other we finally started naming them…it’s just more efficient for conversation! There’s only so many times you can say “the Ameraucana with the crazy puff cheeks and beard laid another egg today!’. Instead, that one is Muppet, a bold, talkative hen with crazy facial feathers and an extra-blank gaze. The Silver Lace Wyandotte is Wynonna, because alliteration, and also because she is sort of ruffled and puffed up all the time. She turned out to be the dominate hen after a spirited comb-and-beak fight with one of the Barred Rocks. The Barred Rocks are Pepper and Tink. The last two Ameraucana/Easter Eggers will have to be stared at some more before earning their names.