bok (chicken in a sweater v.II)

This is not my first chicken a sweater.  But this is the first time I actually knitted a chicken sweater.  We all learn and grow.

This grand Wyandotte hen is a gift to our egg family.  As in the people who have chickens that lay eggs that we buy and eat. Because we feel pretty good about that and like to show some appreciation.

The hen was sewn and stuffed, then prim'd (primed? primmed?) with coffee and baked in the oven.  Afterwards a thin whitewash of gesso was painted on, a touch of acrylic for colour, followed by pen and ink details.  Legs and wings attached with thread an buttons.  And, of course, the sweater was knitted and secured with a button.

One can take the sweater off, if one would prefer, for a bit more chicken-ly authenticity.

I realize that it's hard to judge how big she is from these photos so I will just tell you that she just fits in two adult palms held together in a scoop.  She feels a bit leathery (not at all like feathers, perhaps something to think for future sweatered chickens) and smells delicious, given her coffee bath.

It'll be sad to see her go but I'm sure she'll be much happier on the farm with others of her own kind.

chicken in a sweater

The short story on this fancy little lady: I have a friend who has an affection for chickens in sweaters. Because, honestly, who does not?  I could not help but indulge. 

I also wanted to celebrate our city's recent decision to allow backyard chickens and, perhaps, sway The Man's attitude towards maybe saying yes to having a wee coop of our own.  Our city allows up to four birds, so I see a few more hens in sweaters in my future. 

This wyandotte breed hen is a pampered urban chicken, not a rescue hen, although she wears the sweater in solidarity.  She has gone to live in Montreal where, I am sure, she will have many adventures.   

Here is our lady in the flesh. 

Paint was my main medium here.  Each layer of paint was sanded down after it dried to create a nice, leather-like texture and, I was hoping, a bit of antiquing. 

And out in the backyard, enjoying the last bit of sun before the winter.

The sweater was made from a hand knitted sock made by a friend.  I loved the socks, I even once dyed my hair to match them, but the had an unfortunate run in with a pokey-outey thing along my base board and the bottom of one was horribly mangled.  It was tragic.  The tube, however, was, as you can see, still good and has found new life as a chicken sweater.  Seems a happy ending to me.

I am ridiculously proud of this lady and I'm hoping to find an artist to convince to maybe have a go at painting one or two.  I have a couple of items on my plate before I can make another chicken, including girl child's show's opening tonight, for which I am sequestered in the costume room making repairs and adjustments during the performance as needed, and a few fleshies, but then, after that, there shall be chickens.