Chicken Presidents

I seriously cannot handle the cuteness of this picture. I don't really have a reason to post it, but I want one of those furry things....also known as a chick. But now that I think about it, during college I had 5 or so of them. The little Easter colored ones. I know that dying chicks is probably inhumane, but they were soo cute. Lofton and I named them after Presidents. We took them home for Easter that year and I tried to convince my mom that she needed them. That didn't work. So the chicks and I made the trip back up to Oxford. Kate Garner and Carroll Henderson looked at me like I was crazy when I brought Roosevelt, Lincoln, Washington, Taft, Jackson, Jefferson, and Johnson into our small apartment. We kept them in a box with a desk light shining down on them 24 hours a day. If they got cold at all, they started chirping. It really got bad though when Lincoln and Taft turned into Roosters and they all started jumping out of the box. Just a side note...Chicken and Roosters don't potty train. So after they turned mobile, I called the animal shelter and asked if they took chickens. After a long pause, she said, "I don't know why not." I immediately rounded up the half colored/half real chicken color chickens and put them in a box, got in the car, and headed up to the shelter. Scared that they were going to change their minds, I dropped the box at the door, said a quick sorry and goodbye forever, and ran to my car without speaking to any shelter employee. That was the end of the chicken presidents.