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Behold, Cluckingham Palace!


I’m back! I had a lovely week off. I had intended to stay indoors and play computer, but we had a surprise ‘heat wave’ (in quotes because, England) for the WHOLE of my b’day week, and I ended up spending most of it sitting in the garden. Shut the browser tabs for FaceBook, all the news and weaselblog and played mad chicken lady. I recommend it (now more than ever).

But first I had to assemble the chicken house, since the little girls had thoroughly outgrown their cardboard box sleeping quarters in the house. And I did, and I put them in it, and they were TERRIFIED. Of the henhouse. I’m not sure why. They huddled in a corner of the run farthest from the house and refused to go near it. I put them in, they launched themselves out like little ballistic missiles, if ballistic missiles peeped and shed feathers.

I guess that black opening seemed like The Cave That Eats Baby Chickens.

Still, I figured when night fell, their instincts would kick in and they’d go inside to sleep, but no. HELL no. When night fell, they wailed and cried until I went out and let them waddle happily into the pet carrier for a ride back indoors.

On the third night, I closed the pop-hole and shut them inside and…they’ve been happy in it ever since. In fact, I’m terribly impressed with what a grownup little flock they are, all by themselves. As predicted, Vita has been rotten to them. As predicted, Jack the cat has chased them around. But they calm down right away and go back to chickening (though they were mighty puzzled when the Chinook helicopter went over low and slow).

More on birthday later, but right now I have to start the second module of my Chickenology course: Behaviour Patterns of Chickens.

May 9, 2016 — 6:35 pm
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