^This is Steve, a rooster. He was the sweetest, most friendly rooster(or hen!) that I ever owned. He died of a disease on November 5, 2018. I miss him so much. Where I lived at the time that I had chickens, there weren't really "breeds" of chickens. There was one chicken breed, designed to be for meat, and then everything else is just a chicken mutt.
^This is Stripe, a hen. She had a nice personality. She would only come up to me when I had food, and wouldn't let me walk right up to her without food, but she was a nice mixture of handleability and independence. She might have been the oldest chicken I ever owned, at almost 3 years old when I gave her away.
^The hen in this picture is Bumblebee, and the chicks next to her on the perch all had names, but that would be a lot(she had 13 chicks!) to say. The chicks in the background, outside of the run, were not mine.
^Another picture of Bumblebee & Co., but this time the chicks are like a week old.
^Two hens, Whithen on the left and Redhen on the right. They were always together when I had both. These are the meat chicken breed that I mentioned earlier in this post. Their names have a hilarious origin. When I first got them, Redhen had red "earlobes", and Whitehen had whitish "earlobes". Until I could find better names, I nicknamed them "Red Earlobed Hen" and "White Earlobed Hen". I shortened it to Redhen and Whitehen, and I never changed their names. They were sooooooooo friendly. Redhen I gifted to someone else, and Whitehen I gave away when we moved. Whitehen was by far my favorite hen ever, and she has a sort of sad story. My parents were coming home from shopping, so I went out onto the porch to greet them. Then I saw her, next to the porch, with blood all over her face and neck. There was a very shallow, but wide gash on the back of her neck, and her face was bleeding, too. BTW, where I lived there was no vet that would take chickens(for that matter, there may not have even been a vet). So. We cleaned her up with wet rags and iodine, superglued her neck wound shut, and used a bit of string tied to a few feathers to hold the wound shut long enough for the superglue to dry. I didn't think she was going to make it.... but she did! She was blind in one eye, but she was alive. From then on, she was NOT free-ranged, except under my supervision. She was my heart-chicken. I am almost crying typing this.
^This is the most recent picture of Whitehen that I have. The eye on the left is her blind eye.
I don't have any pictures, but my first hen, Redfeather, was gifted to me on the Christmas of 2017.
I had at least 20 other chickens, but none of them were nearly as important to me as these, and I didn't have them for nearly as long.