Not as bad as the famous rebellions of history, today in the chicken coop was still notable because we may have to consider disciplining one of our little chicks.
Steve, perhaps in a fit of identity confusion, tore his hanklet off of his ankle and brazenly left it hanging on the roost made from a branch of the crabapple tree. We thought we were clear with the girls when we told them it was for their own good – this identification scheme. We asked them if they understood what we were saying. Not if they agreed, not if they had a problem. If they understood.
All five of them, Steve (the first to have been awarded the coveted hanklet, you may remember), Albus, Chollo, Barcelona, Juevo, ASSURED us they understood. That there would be no problems. That they would comply – complacently.
Hmmm. We will let you know how the talk goes tomorrow morning. We’ll get some things straight out there. Tough love.
poor steve. her mind’s all aflutter.
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Did you explain to them that it wasn’t easy to be a “Mother Hen”. You have to cook their dinner, clean their coop, and wash their anklets! It’s not easy and they have to be more appreciative. sheeesh chicks! There are poor, poverty stricken freezing chicks in Korea that would love to have anklets.
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