Piggy died. Silver laced Wyandotte hen. She doesn’t peck people; named after Katy Perry by a 10-year-old girl. I would call her Old Baldy if the rest of her wasn’t so pretty. She talked non-stop sometimes, so Chatty Cathy might have been a more appropriate name for her. I called her Katy Piggy because she ate so much. I assume that was a result of spending time on my shoulder or legs instead of foraging. I love my Piggy!
She was not very nice to the other hens. She tolerated Mary Poopins and Dirty Birdie, but chased everyone else away. She wouldn’t let Waffles or Aunt Jemima in the nest boxes if she saw them there. She used to chase Lucy, bite, and not let go. She later took to doing the same to Waffles and Aunt Jemima.
Without doubt, I was Katy Piggy’s favorite person and I’m very proud of it. I love her. As a baby, she didn’t like to be too far away from me and some times had to be taken off my shoulder at night because she wouldn’t get down on her own. She was sick when she was little and I held her until she got better, so perhaps that’s why. She would sit on me for hours if I let her.
She liked to help with the shop-vac. As soon as she heard it, she would come running and jump on my shoulder if she wasn’t already there. Helping me clean the coop and helping me pick up after the dog were two other things Katy Piggy seemed to enjoy. She was a good helper! She sat on my shoulder as we walked around the yard.