Chicken Christmas Tote Bag The 12 Chickens Of Christmas Rhode Roosting Plymouth Pecking

The Australorp sits beside a small green present tied with a red ribbon, and the caption under her gives away exactly what she is doing: admiring. That one word sets the tone for the whole piece. Twelve hens, twelve breeds, and each has been handed a verb the way the old carol hands out birds.

A Chicken Christmas Tote Bag Where Rhode Roosts and Leghorn Leaps

Our Chicken Christmas Tote Bag carries the title “The 12 Chickens of Christmas” in flowing white script, with two sprigs of holly tucked beside the lettering. Below it, the hens stand in three rows of four, each with her own name written in the same curling hand. Rhode roosting wears a Santa hat and a little wreath at her neck. Plymouth pecking has a red scarf wound around her barred feathers. Dominique dashing carries a gold bell, while Java jingling wears a scarf and a ring of jingle bells and looks ready to announce herself before she walks in.

The middle row slows down. Delaware dreaming settles into a nest of greenery in her own Santa hat, and Hampshire nesting guards a straw nest with eggs inside. Hubbard hurrying has a wreath around her neck and a red bow at her chest. Wyandotte waddling turns away in a long red scarf. On the bottom row, Orpington ornamenting is wrapped in string lights and a bow, and Leghorn leaping is caught mid-step with her own strand of lights trailing behind. Egger egging finishes the set on a holly-trimmed nest with pastel eggs tucked in front of her. Short verbs. Big personalities.

Naming a Wyandotte Waddling and a Hubbard Hurrying

This holiday chicken tote is a Christmas carryall made for backyard flock keepers and anyone who thinks the carol needed more feathers. If you can tell a Dominique from a Plymouth Rock by the barring alone, you will spot the breeds right away. If you cannot, the captions do the introductions, and you may find yourself picking a favorite by the second row.

We drew the hens the way a person who actually keeps chickens might remember them: one fussing over her eggs, one rushing somewhere, one dozing, one stuck in her lights. That is why the set feels like a flock rather than a row of identical birds in festive hats. A tote like this tends to show up where people already talk about their hens, such as the feed store in December, a neighbor’s cookie swap, or a holiday market where someone stops to ask which one is Java.

It also suits the person who wraps presents with care. Carrying wrapped boxes in a bag where one hen stands admiring a present of her own makes a small, quiet joke that most people notice halfway down the street.

Where does a tote with twelve hens end up once the tree comes down?

The hens carry on well past December at the farmers market and on the weekend grocery run, since the breed names, scarves, and nests are easy to enjoy after the holiday has passed. Egger’s pastel eggs and the nesting hens in the middle row also read as a nod to spring.

Somewhere between the Santa hat on Rhode and the pastel eggs under Egger, a tote like this finds the person who will say each name out loud.