Her name is cricket. She’s what’s called a “midnight majesty” marans. I don’t have a picture with me currently, and I know I’ll forget by the time I get home. But she’s this gorgeous black that gets a green iridescence in the sunlight.
She’s called cricket because when we got her, we had to drive all day and it was night time on the way home, and she was making cute little cricket noises the whole way. She’s old enough now that it doesn’t sound the same, but it was the trills that sleepy, contented chickens make. She was small enough to just sit nestled in my kid’s hand at the time.