Heap Of Chickens

The young chickens seem to congregrate together, while the older ones go off and do their own thing.

Here’s a bunch of our younger crew I caught in a heap on top of a lumber pile. They’re a mix of Buff Orpington, Polish Silver Laced, and Sicilian Buttercup.  It always amazes me we ended up with so many white chickens in this generation, when none of the foundation flock was white.

A real motley crew!

A Chick Chick Here…

It’s late in the year to be having chicks, but I guess we forgot to tell the hens that.  Miss “My Pad Is A Purple Bucket” just hatched out 4 little chicks. 

She would have had more, but several eggs somehow rolled out of the bucket and got too cold.  I picked them up thinking other chickens had been in there laying eggs, and cracked them open to feed the dogs.  There were half-formed chicks in them… ewwwwww….

A chick, chick here…

It wasn’t long until she was walking over the pastures foraging while her little peeps stumbled through the tall grass in her wake.

Of course, Miss Peepers still has her 3 little chicks, and they too are running around in the fields.  They also come out in the morning with the other chickens to peck at the corn I throw out.

Trash Talk

Yesterday morning when I first came to consciousness, the first thing that made an impression was all the barking. Lots of barking. LOUD barking. Continual barking. So my first waking thought was, “What in the world is that crazy dog barking at?”

There was no thunder. He’s a great fan of barking at thunder. It’s his number one reason for barking. He jumps way up and seems to think if he can just jump high enough and bark loud enough, some day he’s going to catch that thunder.

Have I mentioned we have a tendency more for the weird than the wonderful around here?

Anyway, once I got myself moving, I went outside to see what was prompting all the barking. There were no cats. No squirrels. No stray dogs. No stray people. There was nothing I could see out of the ordinary except… trash.

Yes, the neighbors who hardly ever show up – you remember them, they’re the ones with this sign on their door –

– these neighbors had been home and put some trash by the side of the road for pick-up yesterday morning.  Now hopefully they’re more skilled at remodeling than they are at spelling.  They must have been working on a bathroom as there were several empty boxes from a fan, a bathroom vanity, and other stuff setting by their mailbox, along with a big trash can.

It was something new, something different, something strange.  And whatever it was, Toby didn’t think it should be there.

However, he’s prone to trash talk-barking from afar, and not so keen on getting up close and in-your-face personal.  When The Farmer took our trash out to the road, Toby and I went along. 

He wasn’t too thrilled at the idea of getting up close to that strange stuff.  Nope, he didn’t want anything to do with it, but I finally coaxed him up close enough to see it wasn’t moving.  He decided to give it a sniff.

He was very cautious checking out these unexpected things by the road.  After sniffing over all the boxes, he gave the garbage can a once over too.

He decided perhaps these items weren’t going to attack anyone after all.

Our other “dog”, Spot, remained unconvinced, arching his back and bushing his tail at the menacing pile of trash.  He didn’t care for its sudden appearance either.

When all was said and done, Toby gave up his trash talk-barking and expressed his opinion in a different manner. He walked right up to the bushes beside the trash, and…

Please to excuse the blurry photo. By this time I was laughing so hard I couldn’t hold the camera still.  I’m thinking the neighbors should be thankful there wasn’t a puddle by and on their trash can.  They’ll never know how much commotion their suddenly appearing pile of trash caused.

But if they put some more out by the road next week, I hope Toby remembers it’s safe and doesn’t wake me up with more of that trash talk-barking!

A Bucket Of Chicken

No, this bucket of chicken isn’t Colonel Sanders KFC.

It’s not any kind of processed chicken at all!  This one is still completely in the natural state…

Now, her choice of a nesting site isn’t exactly all natural. I mean, she’s a pretty trendy chick here to be choosing a bright purple bucket for her pad!

Just gives a “bucket of chicken” a whole new meaning, doesn’t it?

Hanging In There!

I went out one morning to do chores and heard a whole lot of peeping going on.  LOUD peeping.  I tracked it down to the chicken pen.  More precisely, to the wire between the chicken pen and front, and the peafowl pen in back.

A little peachick managed to get inbetween layers of chicken wire and crawl upwards – I presume in a misguided effort to get back out.

Lady, quit taking pictures and HELP ME!!!

Once I rescued the little guy (gal?) from its’ predicament and put it back in the pen with Mama Peahen, I was NOT welcome.  She was disturbed and pacing back and forth, and WILL YOU PLEASE LEAVE!?!

Hey, I can take a hint! I got my camera and myself out of there and left them in peace.