And this marvelous bird is called a what, now?
It’s official. We’re all turkeyed out for the season.
Here’s Asbo, our outside cat, enjoying a well-deserved leftover. Poor old boy; it was so delicious, it frightened him. He was sure we were giving him the good stuff by mistake and he was going to have an old shoe pitched at him any minute.
Oh, must tell you a chicken story. This time of year — if I let them out at all — the girls put themselves to bed about four in the afternoon. Evening comes, they trundle off, hop up on the perch and I come out a few minutes later and lock everything up.
Well, two days ago, I looked out around 4:15, the two younger girls weren’t anywhere to be seen and the two older girls were milling around outside the hutch. They caught sight of me at the window and came running up, all excited.
So I shoo’d everybody into the run, where I found the two little girls sitting on the floor of the henhouse, miserable. Someone had managed to knock the wooden slat down and there was nowhere to perch. And so the big girls came to get me to fix it.
No shit. It was a total, “what’s that? Little Timmy fell down the well?” moment.
I’m telling you, those damn chickens are smarter than Lassie.