#1 Sphinx
My husband and kids had been desperate to go camping, even though it was late March/early April. I'd put them off because I remembered our last spring camping trip as being really cold. But, with spring break that week, I let them talk me into it.
Two days before our departure day, it began to snow. Hard. It was one of the bigger snowstorms we had over the winter. I had my doubts about camping, but everyone still wanted to try, so the trip was on.
Then, we remembered the white leghorn chicks we adopted a few days earlier. Being a first time chicken mom, I was really worried about their well being. Since they were still little, they need a lot of food and water, and we weren't sure how they'd do at home for 24 hours. So, what the heck. Let's bring the chickens! We transported them in the truck in an Easter bucket.
We get to the camping spot, and checked in with the camp host. She asked the usual questions, and it's business as usual. Then, she asked if we brought any pets.
Oh dear. Is there any way to answer this without looking like a total lunatic? Nope.
Me: "Um, we brought 4 chickens"
Her: "CHICKENS?"
Me: "Well, you see, they're only a couple weeks old, and need to be fed so frequently that we didn't think they could be left alone overnight"
Her: "..."
Really, what do you say?
That night, I discovered (yet another) reason that most people don't bring chicks camping. They would not shut up!!! peep peep peep peep peep peep peep all night long.
After a while, I realize that it IS awfully cold in the trailer. I look at the thermometer, and it's 44 degrees. Furnace isn't working. We realize it's a battery issue, so we change batteries. An hour later, their peeping wakes me up again. This time, we're out of gas. I tried to put a blanket over the brooder box (which is in the shower in our trailer) so that the light would be more effective at keeping them warm. The chickens were still noisy, but were quiet enough that I can sleep.
I will never take chickens camping again.
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#2 Rarely Bored
What a beautiful day, mused Gerrymander as she pleasantly honked at her people. What fun it shall be at the creek today! She waddled at her very own pace down the hill. Her people wandered about as Gerrymander lowered herself in the creek and began eating the yummy blades of grass and delicate plant shoots. While she was eating, Boy #2 climbed a tree. She began bathing and Boy #1 began throwing acorns at Boy #2. Oh I sooo love to splash, sighed Gerrymander as she lowered her head under the water and then took off, full speed ahead with her large wings beating the surface of the water, and then her body would submerge, only to come back up to the surface, going so fast, throwing water everywhere! Boys 1 and 2 began laughing at her antics, but her feelings were not hurt, no sireee! But wait! Where did the boys momma go?? She was down here when I began my bath. Humph, well I was done with the bath anyway, lets find out where that woman went.
Gerrymander climbs out of the creek and enters the horse pasture. Oh, there's momma, she is working on the horses fence line again, expanding the pasture and tightening up the wires. Hey, there is the boy's dad sitting on a rock. I want to sit on the rock, thought Gerrymander, there is another rock next to dad, let me see if I can climb it. Oh, that spot is too high, how about this side? Yes, I can climb that side! Errr, ummph, phew, I'm up. Gerrymander looks around from the 2 foot high rock. Oh, is this all there is to see? I don't get it. Gerrymander hops off the rock and wanders up the hill.
Filibuster brazenly walks down the hill to where the humans are, and then drops down in a dead pile in front of dad. Dad reaches down and pets Filibuster and asked him how his day is. Filibuster, being a cat, enjoys the petting but doesn't answer. Gerrymander clacks in annoyance at the ill manners of Filibuster, even she, a silly goose knows it is polite to answer back, no matter how stupid the question is. She continues climbing to the top of the pasture.
Momma is back down by the fence line, the boys are coming away from the creek to see how well momma is doing and dad has been lead away by Filibuster to the creek.
All is good in the world thinks Gerrymander and with a joyous honk she begins to run down the hill. What fun it is to run! She flaps her wings as she runs, the ground falls away from her feet, and look, look she is flying!!!! (We won't tell Gerrymander it is because the ground slopes down rather steeply there.) Gerrymander loves the feeling of flying, fully extending her neck when:
splooonk
she comes to a dead stop. She can't believe it. Her beautiful flight ended?? Abruptly?? Momma is laughing, Boy #1 is laughing. Boy #2 is laughing. Gerrymander could cry, if her neck wasn't pinned. All of a sudden momma comes running, and pulls at something which has caught her neck. Poor Gerrymander stands there with a puzzled look on her face as she tries to figure out if her neck was hurt, when she realizes it wasn't, she slowly heads back to her chicken flock. They won't laugh at her.
Momma giggles as she observes the two parallel pvc pipes coming straight out of the ground which the former owner of the land had placed. Why they remained, and what the odds are of Gerrymander's head entering the 2 inch gap between the poles shall remain unknown.
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#3 Fuzzy Bird
Shamrock hour old.
The Chick That Wouldn't Give Up
Cotton my white Silky hen layed three eggs and started to brood them. I was keeping watch and two days after she started to sit tight I noticed she layed one more egg.
The three eggs hatched right on time and prooving to be a good mother she waited two days before taking her brood out to meet the world. Unfortunatly for the last egg. For this morning she gathered up the chicks to go out and meet the family. That is when the third egg hatched and I to my horror I found a dead chick outside the nest with one leg still in the shell! It was a cold morning.
I picked up the poor little thing and alas there was just a tiny flutter to the body. With out much hope I cupped the tiny baby in my hands and blew warm air on the unconsious chick.
I took the chick inside and sat down on the couch and kept up blowing, with tears running down my face and little by little more life was felt in the tiny body. It was 1/2 hour before the sweet baby gave its first cheep. Tears turn to tears of joy.It snuggled with me and after about 30 minutes, I put it under the heat in the tub I use for chicks. Knowing it could still die I gave a little prayer and left the room.
Well that chick thrived and after four days I decided to reunite the chick, which I now called Shamrock, for my naming theme with my Silkies is plants and flowers, and I felt he was one lucky chick, I took him out and put him under his mother Cotton, while she was sleeping.
The next morning I rushed out to see how my baby was and my heart dropped! All the other chicks was under mother getting food and my poor Shamrock was lying in the cold strung out looking again like he went to chicky heaven! I cried out and got into the coop fast! He was so cold but again there was life in the unconsious little body. Praying hard I took him in my hand and once again started to blow warm air on him!
I must have gotten to him shortly after he knocked out for a miricle happen! He came alive much faster this time! He was so glad to see me! He chirp and snuggled with me and we became fast friends with him loving to have me hold him and play under my chin, rubbing and pecking me ever so softly on the lips.
I took one of his siblines away from his mother so Shamrock could at least know he was a chicken for I knew I had all the roosters I could keep and I may have to give him up. I was convince he was a roo for what but a roo would be able to come back from almost dead and servive to grow?
He did grow and joy of all joys, Sham is a hen! She is healthy and happy being a chicken that I will never have to sell. I have thought of changing her name to Clover for Shamrock or Sham is a bit masculine. What do you think?
Terri Fors [Fuzzybird]
Now Shamrock is 10 weeks old.
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#4 Razadia
They were pressing in from every direction. Chickens, turkeys, guineas, and all kinds of water fowl. It seemed like there was no escape. Almost like there was no way out. Just when Carly thought the mass exodus of feathered creatures would surly end her life the doorbell rang.
I sighed and put my book down to go answer the door. It’s not like Poultry Masses was a very good book anyway. Most of the words were used wrong and the form of writing was terrible. However, I didn’t have time to ponder how terrible the book was as my neighbor was at the door, sputtering about rabid chickens. Could chickens even catch rabies?
I knew right away who the elderly woman was getting so upset over. My Rhode Island Red rooster, aptly named Red, was currently terrorizing a car. A few of the girls had followed the crafty rooster out into the front yard, but Red was my only real concern.
I apologized profusely to my elderly neighbor and promised her I would personally fix any scratches Red’s spurs left behind. This rooster was starting to cost me and I suspected it was becoming high time I sent him off to freezer camp.
I firmly shut the door on my way out, signaling to my neighbor that it was time for her to retreat back to her porch while I dealt with the unruly roo. Red was facing a primered door of the car which utterly confused me. He wasn’t attacking his reflection this time.
I watched as he spurred bottom of the door again and briefly wondered if he was imagining it was another rooster. Well, that’s what I thought until I saw the grey and black ringed tail under the car. Red was after a raccoon that had threatened his girls. Traps would be set out and another few locks added to the coop door.
I promptly scooped Red up and called the girls to follow. It would be a long night of trying to trap the offending creature and didn’t want any of my chickens to disappear. I suppose it was time to borrow my cousin’s live trap and teach my crazy rooster a lesson in the process.
It seemed that the problem with poultry was that they had no middle ground. Either they were extremely sweet or they aggravated you with their need to box with everything. Even if it was their own reflection.
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#5 debs_flock
Each year the California State Fair sponsors a hatchery in the Fur & Feathers building. They hatch out chicks, quail & ducklings for the public to experience the magic of watching a fuzzy baby emerge from their shell. The babies are put on display in big glass cases. Every night, the babies that are a day or two old are given to 4-H children to take home and raise. The cases are then repopulated with that day’s fluffy babies.
My son always showed in all the small animal competitions; rabbit, poultry & cavies. We lived over an hour from the fairgrounds and of course couldn’t leave until the building closed and had to be there first thing in the morning when it opened for two straight weeks. Always exhausting, but fun.
One night at closing time, my son came up to me with a box of 20 baby quail to take home. Very cute and about the size of big bumblebees. When we got home at midnight, I had him crawl into bed so he could be back up at 5:00am. I put the box of quail in the most secure room in the house, my bathroom. I gave them food, water & a heat lamp and wearily crawled into bed.
The next morning, we rushed around to feed all our animals and be out of the house by 6:00am for the day. All day, I had that nagging feeling………….did I remember to tightly close the door to my bathroom after checking the quail chicks? We had two brother cats, Bill & Bubba. They were both confirmed hunters, always bringing in their catches through the kitty door.
I worried about those chicks all day while I was at fair. That night when we arrived home at midnight, the first thing I did was rush to my bathroom to check. I was so pleased when I discovered the door closed tightly.
Until I opened the door….
On the floor, a box, a waterer, a feeder, a lamp and carnage everywhere, but not a single quail chick. On the window sill looking down at me, two smug self-satisfied cats that had been locked IN the bathroom for the day. I can now also attest to the laxative power of baby quail on a cat.
Or, as they have forever after been called at my house………….kitty treats!
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#6 kvmommy
I stumbled across silkie chickens online and was in love. I joke about how they are asian birds and I'm Korean so I had to have them. It was destiny...or was it?
When I hatched eggs I always included silkies. And guess what...none hatched. I began to question my destiny with silkies and gave up for a while before deciding to try again. Lo and behold, I finally hatched a white silkie cockerel, and 2 partridge silkie pullets. Elton John, Lady Gaga and Madonna.
Unfortunately Madonna was born crippled. But Elton and Gaga never left her behind, they loved each other dearly. But fate would have another plan for this lovely trio.
We hadn't finished our coop so I sadly posted a sale ad. When no one responded, I decided these silkies were meant to be with me. One day in a tragic accident, Madonna broke her crippled leg, and was sadly euthanized. After that, Gaga would cry out over and over, calling for her sister who was never to return. Gaga and Elton grew closer, as it became apparent that Lady Gaga was easily confused. She needed assitance to find the coop, protection, and she was timid when eating. But Elton was there every step of the way. He'd lead her back to the coop, he'd protect and he'd even bring her food or help her eat. Elton was the consummate gentleman and lovely too. But Gaga...wow...what she lacked in brains, she made up in looks. For three months, I was so happy with my sweet girl and wonderful boy. As fate would have it, their love wasn't meant to be.
I came out to a deafening silence. The coop was splashed with blood and white fluff. I called for Elton and 20 feet away was more blood and white feathers. My heart stopped. Before I could mourn, all I could think of was Gaga. I ran around calling for my chickens and then I heard chirping from my pool shed. The chicks were in there hiding, including the large fowl that tormented my sweet Elton and Gaga. I found her, huddled in a corner by herself. For two days she cried, and wandered aimlessly. She truly felt the loss of Elton and Madonna. I tried to comfort her but failed. It was time to find her a new home with more Silkies so I got on my computer with the intent to post another ad. But in my email was an answer to my old ad. It was a guy looking specifically for 1 female partridge silkie. I couldn't believe it. When he came to get her, he told me that he had just won a partridge male silkie at a chicken show and wanted a female to keep him company. His male was named...Pavarotti. I knew then that it wasn't my destiny to have her, it was her destiny to have him. To this day, she is a very happy wife and a wonderful mother.
Here's the Trio
Here's Gaga and Pavarotti
My husband and kids had been desperate to go camping, even though it was late March/early April. I'd put them off because I remembered our last spring camping trip as being really cold. But, with spring break that week, I let them talk me into it.
Two days before our departure day, it began to snow. Hard. It was one of the bigger snowstorms we had over the winter. I had my doubts about camping, but everyone still wanted to try, so the trip was on.
Then, we remembered the white leghorn chicks we adopted a few days earlier. Being a first time chicken mom, I was really worried about their well being. Since they were still little, they need a lot of food and water, and we weren't sure how they'd do at home for 24 hours. So, what the heck. Let's bring the chickens! We transported them in the truck in an Easter bucket.
We get to the camping spot, and checked in with the camp host. She asked the usual questions, and it's business as usual. Then, she asked if we brought any pets.
Oh dear. Is there any way to answer this without looking like a total lunatic? Nope.
Me: "Um, we brought 4 chickens"
Her: "CHICKENS?"
Me: "Well, you see, they're only a couple weeks old, and need to be fed so frequently that we didn't think they could be left alone overnight"
Her: "..."
Really, what do you say?
That night, I discovered (yet another) reason that most people don't bring chicks camping. They would not shut up!!! peep peep peep peep peep peep peep all night long.
After a while, I realize that it IS awfully cold in the trailer. I look at the thermometer, and it's 44 degrees. Furnace isn't working. We realize it's a battery issue, so we change batteries. An hour later, their peeping wakes me up again. This time, we're out of gas. I tried to put a blanket over the brooder box (which is in the shower in our trailer) so that the light would be more effective at keeping them warm. The chickens were still noisy, but were quiet enough that I can sleep.
I will never take chickens camping again.
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#2 Rarely Bored
Gerrymander's Adventures
a short story
starring Gerrymander
and Filibuster Feline
a short story
starring Gerrymander
and Filibuster Feline
What a beautiful day, mused Gerrymander as she pleasantly honked at her people. What fun it shall be at the creek today! She waddled at her very own pace down the hill. Her people wandered about as Gerrymander lowered herself in the creek and began eating the yummy blades of grass and delicate plant shoots. While she was eating, Boy #2 climbed a tree. She began bathing and Boy #1 began throwing acorns at Boy #2. Oh I sooo love to splash, sighed Gerrymander as she lowered her head under the water and then took off, full speed ahead with her large wings beating the surface of the water, and then her body would submerge, only to come back up to the surface, going so fast, throwing water everywhere! Boys 1 and 2 began laughing at her antics, but her feelings were not hurt, no sireee! But wait! Where did the boys momma go?? She was down here when I began my bath. Humph, well I was done with the bath anyway, lets find out where that woman went.
Gerrymander climbs out of the creek and enters the horse pasture. Oh, there's momma, she is working on the horses fence line again, expanding the pasture and tightening up the wires. Hey, there is the boy's dad sitting on a rock. I want to sit on the rock, thought Gerrymander, there is another rock next to dad, let me see if I can climb it. Oh, that spot is too high, how about this side? Yes, I can climb that side! Errr, ummph, phew, I'm up. Gerrymander looks around from the 2 foot high rock. Oh, is this all there is to see? I don't get it. Gerrymander hops off the rock and wanders up the hill.
Filibuster brazenly walks down the hill to where the humans are, and then drops down in a dead pile in front of dad. Dad reaches down and pets Filibuster and asked him how his day is. Filibuster, being a cat, enjoys the petting but doesn't answer. Gerrymander clacks in annoyance at the ill manners of Filibuster, even she, a silly goose knows it is polite to answer back, no matter how stupid the question is. She continues climbing to the top of the pasture.
Momma is back down by the fence line, the boys are coming away from the creek to see how well momma is doing and dad has been lead away by Filibuster to the creek.
All is good in the world thinks Gerrymander and with a joyous honk she begins to run down the hill. What fun it is to run! She flaps her wings as she runs, the ground falls away from her feet, and look, look she is flying!!!! (We won't tell Gerrymander it is because the ground slopes down rather steeply there.) Gerrymander loves the feeling of flying, fully extending her neck when:
splooonk
she comes to a dead stop. She can't believe it. Her beautiful flight ended?? Abruptly?? Momma is laughing, Boy #1 is laughing. Boy #2 is laughing. Gerrymander could cry, if her neck wasn't pinned. All of a sudden momma comes running, and pulls at something which has caught her neck. Poor Gerrymander stands there with a puzzled look on her face as she tries to figure out if her neck was hurt, when she realizes it wasn't, she slowly heads back to her chicken flock. They won't laugh at her.
Momma giggles as she observes the two parallel pvc pipes coming straight out of the ground which the former owner of the land had placed. Why they remained, and what the odds are of Gerrymander's head entering the 2 inch gap between the poles shall remain unknown.
and Filibuster:
#3 Fuzzy Bird
Shamrock hour old.
The Chick That Wouldn't Give Up
Cotton my white Silky hen layed three eggs and started to brood them. I was keeping watch and two days after she started to sit tight I noticed she layed one more egg.
The three eggs hatched right on time and prooving to be a good mother she waited two days before taking her brood out to meet the world. Unfortunatly for the last egg. For this morning she gathered up the chicks to go out and meet the family. That is when the third egg hatched and I to my horror I found a dead chick outside the nest with one leg still in the shell! It was a cold morning.
I picked up the poor little thing and alas there was just a tiny flutter to the body. With out much hope I cupped the tiny baby in my hands and blew warm air on the unconsious chick.
I took the chick inside and sat down on the couch and kept up blowing, with tears running down my face and little by little more life was felt in the tiny body. It was 1/2 hour before the sweet baby gave its first cheep. Tears turn to tears of joy.It snuggled with me and after about 30 minutes, I put it under the heat in the tub I use for chicks. Knowing it could still die I gave a little prayer and left the room.
Well that chick thrived and after four days I decided to reunite the chick, which I now called Shamrock, for my naming theme with my Silkies is plants and flowers, and I felt he was one lucky chick, I took him out and put him under his mother Cotton, while she was sleeping.
The next morning I rushed out to see how my baby was and my heart dropped! All the other chicks was under mother getting food and my poor Shamrock was lying in the cold strung out looking again like he went to chicky heaven! I cried out and got into the coop fast! He was so cold but again there was life in the unconsious little body. Praying hard I took him in my hand and once again started to blow warm air on him!
I must have gotten to him shortly after he knocked out for a miricle happen! He came alive much faster this time! He was so glad to see me! He chirp and snuggled with me and we became fast friends with him loving to have me hold him and play under my chin, rubbing and pecking me ever so softly on the lips.
I took one of his siblines away from his mother so Shamrock could at least know he was a chicken for I knew I had all the roosters I could keep and I may have to give him up. I was convince he was a roo for what but a roo would be able to come back from almost dead and servive to grow?
He did grow and joy of all joys, Sham is a hen! She is healthy and happy being a chicken that I will never have to sell. I have thought of changing her name to Clover for Shamrock or Sham is a bit masculine. What do you think?
Terri Fors [Fuzzybird]
Now Shamrock is 10 weeks old.
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#4 Razadia
The Problem With Poultry
They were pressing in from every direction. Chickens, turkeys, guineas, and all kinds of water fowl. It seemed like there was no escape. Almost like there was no way out. Just when Carly thought the mass exodus of feathered creatures would surly end her life the doorbell rang.
I sighed and put my book down to go answer the door. It’s not like Poultry Masses was a very good book anyway. Most of the words were used wrong and the form of writing was terrible. However, I didn’t have time to ponder how terrible the book was as my neighbor was at the door, sputtering about rabid chickens. Could chickens even catch rabies?
I knew right away who the elderly woman was getting so upset over. My Rhode Island Red rooster, aptly named Red, was currently terrorizing a car. A few of the girls had followed the crafty rooster out into the front yard, but Red was my only real concern.
I apologized profusely to my elderly neighbor and promised her I would personally fix any scratches Red’s spurs left behind. This rooster was starting to cost me and I suspected it was becoming high time I sent him off to freezer camp.
I firmly shut the door on my way out, signaling to my neighbor that it was time for her to retreat back to her porch while I dealt with the unruly roo. Red was facing a primered door of the car which utterly confused me. He wasn’t attacking his reflection this time.
I watched as he spurred bottom of the door again and briefly wondered if he was imagining it was another rooster. Well, that’s what I thought until I saw the grey and black ringed tail under the car. Red was after a raccoon that had threatened his girls. Traps would be set out and another few locks added to the coop door.
I promptly scooped Red up and called the girls to follow. It would be a long night of trying to trap the offending creature and didn’t want any of my chickens to disappear. I suppose it was time to borrow my cousin’s live trap and teach my crazy rooster a lesson in the process.
It seemed that the problem with poultry was that they had no middle ground. Either they were extremely sweet or they aggravated you with their need to box with everything. Even if it was their own reflection.
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#5 debs_flock
Each year the California State Fair sponsors a hatchery in the Fur & Feathers building. They hatch out chicks, quail & ducklings for the public to experience the magic of watching a fuzzy baby emerge from their shell. The babies are put on display in big glass cases. Every night, the babies that are a day or two old are given to 4-H children to take home and raise. The cases are then repopulated with that day’s fluffy babies.
My son always showed in all the small animal competitions; rabbit, poultry & cavies. We lived over an hour from the fairgrounds and of course couldn’t leave until the building closed and had to be there first thing in the morning when it opened for two straight weeks. Always exhausting, but fun.
One night at closing time, my son came up to me with a box of 20 baby quail to take home. Very cute and about the size of big bumblebees. When we got home at midnight, I had him crawl into bed so he could be back up at 5:00am. I put the box of quail in the most secure room in the house, my bathroom. I gave them food, water & a heat lamp and wearily crawled into bed.
The next morning, we rushed around to feed all our animals and be out of the house by 6:00am for the day. All day, I had that nagging feeling………….did I remember to tightly close the door to my bathroom after checking the quail chicks? We had two brother cats, Bill & Bubba. They were both confirmed hunters, always bringing in their catches through the kitty door.
I worried about those chicks all day while I was at fair. That night when we arrived home at midnight, the first thing I did was rush to my bathroom to check. I was so pleased when I discovered the door closed tightly.
Until I opened the door….
On the floor, a box, a waterer, a feeder, a lamp and carnage everywhere, but not a single quail chick. On the window sill looking down at me, two smug self-satisfied cats that had been locked IN the bathroom for the day. I can now also attest to the laxative power of baby quail on a cat.
Or, as they have forever after been called at my house………….kitty treats!
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#6 kvmommy
UNEXPECTED DESTINY
I stumbled across silkie chickens online and was in love. I joke about how they are asian birds and I'm Korean so I had to have them. It was destiny...or was it?
When I hatched eggs I always included silkies. And guess what...none hatched. I began to question my destiny with silkies and gave up for a while before deciding to try again. Lo and behold, I finally hatched a white silkie cockerel, and 2 partridge silkie pullets. Elton John, Lady Gaga and Madonna.
Unfortunately Madonna was born crippled. But Elton and Gaga never left her behind, they loved each other dearly. But fate would have another plan for this lovely trio.
We hadn't finished our coop so I sadly posted a sale ad. When no one responded, I decided these silkies were meant to be with me. One day in a tragic accident, Madonna broke her crippled leg, and was sadly euthanized. After that, Gaga would cry out over and over, calling for her sister who was never to return. Gaga and Elton grew closer, as it became apparent that Lady Gaga was easily confused. She needed assitance to find the coop, protection, and she was timid when eating. But Elton was there every step of the way. He'd lead her back to the coop, he'd protect and he'd even bring her food or help her eat. Elton was the consummate gentleman and lovely too. But Gaga...wow...what she lacked in brains, she made up in looks. For three months, I was so happy with my sweet girl and wonderful boy. As fate would have it, their love wasn't meant to be.
I came out to a deafening silence. The coop was splashed with blood and white fluff. I called for Elton and 20 feet away was more blood and white feathers. My heart stopped. Before I could mourn, all I could think of was Gaga. I ran around calling for my chickens and then I heard chirping from my pool shed. The chicks were in there hiding, including the large fowl that tormented my sweet Elton and Gaga. I found her, huddled in a corner by herself. For two days she cried, and wandered aimlessly. She truly felt the loss of Elton and Madonna. I tried to comfort her but failed. It was time to find her a new home with more Silkies so I got on my computer with the intent to post another ad. But in my email was an answer to my old ad. It was a guy looking specifically for 1 female partridge silkie. I couldn't believe it. When he came to get her, he told me that he had just won a partridge male silkie at a chicken show and wanted a female to keep him company. His male was named...Pavarotti. I knew then that it wasn't my destiny to have her, it was her destiny to have him. To this day, she is a very happy wife and a wonderful mother.
Here's the Trio
Here's Gaga and Pavarotti
I've always wondered about the colored chicks. I've always guessed they are roo leghorns. Would you mind posting back what they turn out?
