The little punkins don’t even SOUND like chicks anymore. As they walk around the backyard, being healthy and only eating superfoods (no saturated fats or simple sugars – we monitor this closely), they make this contemplative, contented-yet-focused chicken sound. Similar to the “brrrk, brrrrk, brrrk” that you’d expect to hear them make, cuz we’ve all heard them, (or, if you haven’t heard one, the sound that the american television viewing experience slant movie cinema experience has provided us with – a soundtrack that goes with chickens). It’s a much richer sound than even I remembered. I can tell they are sucking the marrow out of the bones of life – truly a vision of Carpe Diem. The carpe that Robin Williams talked about in the movie; that feeling he urged students to not just embrace but to truly ingest and then wear as a life song.
Yeah, so the chickens are happy, that’s my point. They love to wander around the yard, even when the dog is out. Some of you may have heard about our sheltie, Kenzie. Rest assured we were out there with all the animals so there was no danger (no animals were harmed in the telling of this story)! However, the scene opens with Kenzie contenting himself with sniffing their butts for a long time. He would periodically look up at me or Ang and act like he was just walking around and happened to be in the vicinity of, lo and behold, these bird-things. As in, “Officer, I had NO IDEA that I was exceeding the speed limit! Gosh, I’m so sorry!”, or “Officer, those are NOT MY EARRINGS, I have NO IDEA how they got into my purse! You say they still have the Claire’s tags on them? that is SO weird!”, or “Officer, he started this with his angry words – I was just walking by minding my own business”. Kenzie is all like, “Oh, gosh, I am surprised that these bird-things are right next to me; I was just walking around the yard like I ALWAYS do”.
So after several minutes of trailing them sniffing he got the urge to start gumming them. Yes, gumming them. Like a hunting dog does with a bird that it recovers from the heavy brush. I once looked over and saw a chicken cowering, fully on her tummy, and Kenzie pushing it into the ground with his nose. “Give me your lunch money, punk, or I’ll make it so you don’t eat for a week!”. One word from me and he was all, “Gosh, what a great time to call for me; I was just about to head over to you and put my nose on your knee. Great idea!” And little miss chicken walked away unscathed. As a matter of fact, in the whole scheme of things, the lawn mower scares them WAY more than the dog does.
We use our little bamboo sticks to herd them back into their coop. Ang worked up a sweat the other day – they got pretty comfortable out of the coop, and just plain didn’t want to go back in. (never end a sentence with a preposition) Today, their hearts weren’t in it, so when I “bambooed” them back in, they were fine with it. Like a baby that finally lets him/herself be laid down for a nap.
Sometimes it’s safer in the coop, no matter how confident you are in the world.