Pages

Thursday, November 4, 2010

a tale of two chickens

So we now can safely let the chickens roam free, with Scout the mass chicken murder safely in the freezer. This however, has seemed to lower our chickens I.Q. level. We can't leave them alone for a second.

We have rescued them from the water dish as they drowned. (It's about 2 inches deep.) We have untangled their heads out of the fence. (Cause they were trying to go back in with out using the gate.) And we finally gave up and penned them back up. Apparently chickens don't like freedom as much as peta says.

(I shouldn't make fun of peta really since I am a member in good standing. Don't look so shocked. How could I not be a member of such an elite society? People for the Eating of Tasty Animals is my life! I just looked and realized my computer has been autocorrecting my spelling. hahaha)

Anyways, back to the stories of our two chickens. Those mainly involved would be Cracker and Cracker. (All of our white chickens have the same name. So there are nine Crackers.) But we did manage to keep two colored chickens, Black Beauty or BB for short, and Scarlett Red (I voted for Off Red, but no one agreed with me. She is a cream with Red tips.) Darn me and my whoo shiny moments!

Anyways Cracker was walking around the water dish. It is maybe two to three inches deep if you fill it all the way to the top. It's never filled all the way to the top. Cracker jumps up and tries to sit on the edge. This isn't hard for a chicken they roost. However this particular batch of our chickens was bought from some one we will never purchase chickens from again. They are...inbred?

We are all throwing feed to the chickens, and Bella and Degan are trying to get Little Red to stand still so they can check her for eggs. (They're convinced they can catch her actually dropping an egg.) Madison is picking up Cracker after Cracker, and Martin and D are in the field with the beagle hunting rabbits.

Madison starts laughing, and hollers for me. I turn to see Cracker flaying around in the water. I go over and pick it up and it has bubbles coming out of its beak. How hard is it for a chicken to lift its head? Honeybear has walked out of the barn and came over. The Cracker is literally gasping.

We look at each other for a second, then I hold Cracker out to him. "Wanna give it mouth to mouth?" ,I say. Honeybear laughs looks thoughtful, then smacks the chicken in the chest. It kinda wheezed then shook its head and flaps out of my hand.

So now we have all learned an important lesson. Chickens don't swim.

As for Cracker, the kids came running in the next morning, a Cracker was stuck in the fence. (You use two types of fencing to prevent chicks from getting out. This makes about one inch squares. Perfect for the idiot juvenile to stick its head in evidently.)

We go out and get it loose. It's pretty obvious it's been there a while. It's wing feathers are rather ruffled. (From beating them in panic against the fence most likely.) And it's unsteady on it's feet. ( Well, they all are ungraceful, but worse than normal.) So the kids bring it in, put it in a laundry basket, and position it next to the heater.

About ten minutes later, Cracker is up and making noises. (My guess is this Cracker is a roo. I am going to guess that we have at least one roo in this group, out of nine whites one is sure to be a roo.) I ignore it for a few minutes and we all go about our business. Only to pass by the basket a minute later to notice...it's empty.

Cracker is loose in the house. Now come on it's a WHITE chicken. It can't be that good at hiding, right? Wrong. It took us thirty minutes to find this silly chicken. Where was it? Under the girls' bed with a gypsy veil on being hand fed popcorn by Bella.

My kids will make a pet out of anything, even if it is future dinner.

No comments:

Post a Comment

All my city slickers tell me what ya think.