We picked them up this morning. Welcome to the family, little ones!
Well, we'll use the word "family" loosely.
Most family members won't end up in the crockpot if they don't earn their keep. Just in case, maybe we shouldn't give them names. For weeks after Lucy, er, left us, every time we had chicken for dinner, the fine young gents asked, "Is this Lucy?"
Oops. Too late.
The names are, apparently, Kettle, Pot, Cotty and Squirrel. I did not name them. Obviously. Who names a chicken "Squirrel"? A seven-year-old, that's who. His five-year-old brother came up with Pot and Kettle. And Cotty.
We are all smitten.