Chicken Stampede

So last night I ordered gluten free pizza from pizza 9 because I’m sick of what’s in the house – only so much leftovers I can take, and a fridge full of chard – and I didn’t feel well anyway. Plus, isn’t it mandatory to live on pizza when you are alone for a week? Or is that only for guys?

Anyway, it tasted heavenly and I ate far, far too much. I’m suffering the consequences today, of course, but I sure enjoyed it. If only there was a way to eat cheese without having to digest it. Well, a non disgusting and healthy way, anyhow.

I woke up this morning BEFORE SIX AM, which should be illegal or something. The cat fell off the bed which is pretty funny considering all the room she had. After laughing at that, I just had to get up and start the day. Feeding critters and coffee. Even Bailey-dog wasn’t quite ready to get up.

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The Ladies of Clucknfluff were quite surprised to see me so early and forgot to run into my legs on their usual stampede out the coop door. A chicken stampede is pretty darned ridiculous looking. The Boys were all present and accounted for and are already acting like they would like out, too. Not happening, the Clucknfluff gals would be having no rooster chick shenanigans and would probably peck them to death.

Flopsy was pacing in her cage this morning, not sure why. I’m hoping it’s because she’s pregnant but she sure is noisy hopping back and forth like that. Bella and her six kits, who will be six weeks old tomorrow, were all very excited to be fed and gave me bunny snuffly whisker greetings. Buster gave me the stink eye as usual but he doesn’t have me fooled. 

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I topped off everyone’s food, scritched all the bunny ears, and settled down in my fifteen year old fabric-covered-in-chicken-poo folding chair to watch the Nature Channel. A morning dove began his mating ritual on top of the gate. Trying to fan one’s tail AND issue a manly coo while balancing is apparently quite tricky. The hens have established a ”No doves allowed” policy which is vigorously enforced by the younger set, so the dove have to do a LOT of balancing. If the hens ever figure out how to drive the hated dove into the claws of the waiting cat, that’ll be something.

One of the shy silver laced Wyandotte girls came over and peeped at me cautiously. I was regretting not having brought coffee out when the SPRINKLERS TURNED ON!

All the animals watched me try to zip into the house without getting my pj’s soaked. Very fun, lol. See? More laughing…

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