1 year ago
Thursday, July 31, 2008
This is Miss Chickie. She is the last chicken in my flock of 10... some of you may remember the great chicken massacre a few years back. Every morning she presents us with one beautiful brown egg. She is quite sociable, and spends each day after we let her out strolling about the yard scratching for bugs. About mid morning she wanders over to a hollowed out depression in the soft dirt near the fountain and takes a dust bath, fluffing her feathers up so the dirt can penetrate them. Her favorite activity is picking around the dirt and ivy under the hawthorn tree where the excess suet falls off of the bird feeder. There are often snails there which she slaughters with relish (no ketchup though). The tomato plants we planted have been stripped beyond repair with her sharp beak. Miss Chickie considers herself one of the family, and if the screen door is left ajar she will happily stroll right inside the house clucking all the while. This is frequently a problem because when Tobin (the dog)pushes the door open to go outside, he fails to close it behind him. Chickie used to put herself to bed, and all that remained for us to do was shut the door to the coop after dark. Now she has gotten lazy and instead jumps on the outdoor table near the door to perch. Each night we have to pick her up and carry her to the back forty and into the coop. Ah, the life of a chicken... not so bad.