While the rest of us knew to brace for frigid temps by the constant warning of morning weather predictors and the steady turning of calendar pages, my poor chicken didn't know what hit her.
Not only has she lost all her gorgeous auburn-colored feathers, but we caught her letting it all hang out -- literally -- in the tree she's chosen as her spring/summer/fall roosting spot. Fancy didn't change, but the tree sure did.
What is that big ol' hen doing in that flimsy, nearly bare tree? Anything she wants to, hardy har har.
And so, Fancy has picked up her winter habit of roosting in a bin under our deck where we've added a fresh, thick layer of bedding to help keep her warm.
Out with the summer predators, in with the winter ones. But at least she'll be warm in the surviving of them!