Officially old
When the kitchen window opens, the chickens come running. (Chicken. Only one loose at a time now.) That’s because we use them as feathery garbage disposals.
I opened the window earlier to chuck some stale popcorn out, and Sam did not come running.
Hm. Worrying sign. After I clomped all around the house in my wellies calling his name before I thought to look in the chicken house. There he was. Put himself to bed an hour before time.
Not a spring chicken, Sam.
February 4, 2026 — 7:42 pm
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