While my neighbor is in Switzerland, she asked me to feed, water, and care for her chickens. Last time she left, her husband took "care" of them and half of them were eaten by neighborhood dogs (fortunately, my dogs were not part of the posse that annihilated her beloved pets--this time). I was the one who found the unfortunate mass of feathers indicating where once a chicken had existed it did no more. I was some months pregnant with Haven at the time, and I frantically made my way to the coop to see if any of her pets had survived. Four had, they were all huddled on the uppermost beam in the coop shivering in fear (you may say that chickens are incapable of shivering, but I would counter with: you didn't see these chickens. I maintain they were shivering in fear). After ensuring the safety of the survivors, I called Chris on the phone to tell him about the massacre. I was bawling. Bawling. I was thinking of those poor frightened birds watching in horror as their unfortunate counterparts were gobbled up by a dog. And, I was feeling badly for my neighbor because I know how she feels about them.
This story has absolutely nothing to do with today's pictures. However, I did just provide valuable insight into the pregnant female mind. Sometimes I'm amazed that I do this for free.
Thus, Haven and I made our way over to the coop this morning with scraps. Haven was mesmerized by the noises and the movements. At first she was all gung-ho to be a Friend of Fowl.
But, alas, the feeling was short-lived.
1 comment:
I don't blame her one bit! Chickens are scary! My experience is somewhat limited - 3 chicks that were Easter gifts when my brother and sister and I were small. I learned enough, though, to know that the super-soft fuzz and the cute little peeps disappear quickly, only to be replaced by red-eyed, pecking savages. Sorry. I do share your love for some animals, but chickens will never be one of them!
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