Oh we love the “Name That Sex” game here, no need to contact the seller!That’s exactly what I’m thinking. So basically, I paid a large chunk of cash to gamble on eggs shipped from what felt like Timbuktu… only to end up with a mixed grab-bag I could’ve picked up from the side of the road. Meanwhile, my own flock is sitting there like, you know we lay eggs too, right?
Now I’m just playing the classic game of “Rooster or Hen?” Because if the seller—who has conveniently vanished off the face of Oregon and closed her store—was already way off about the breeds, I doubt she’s going to pop back in to help with the chicken gender reveal.