So over time i've became conditioned to working around my chickens while cleaning and taking care of the horses. Strip a stall there is several there scratching around looking for bugs or worms that you need to step around. Put fresh sawdust back in the stalls, they hop on top of the pile to help spread it out and you do not dare shoo them off right away. If they don't get at least a couple minutes of fun your met with angry bawking hens for a long time. Then there is the group that congregate around the manure pile, ready and willing to do their job of raking it down. I'm always stepping around a chicken or two. It takes a little longer but thats what coffee breaks are for, and the horses love it as they get extra scratches while the flock helps. BUT, there is one job that they really get in the way of, that is stacking hay. Got in a new load of hay yesterday. Butter and Holly have deemed themselves the official "Hay quality and control" inspectors. While my dad went to pick up the new load i removed the remaining bales left over from the last load so they could be put back in front of the new load. Had them out of the way and the 2 girls were happily going over each one picking tidbits from them. New load gets here and since they were out of the way i tossed the first bale down. That was the only bale out of 50 that i tossed down. It was like a dinner bell to the girls, they looked over, eyes popped out of their head and they came running over. Butter fly's up to join me to get in the way of unloading, and Holly stays on the ground hot on my dad's heels as he stacks it. They also alert the rest of the group of the new feast so everyone is around the truck and tossing down bales means i will squish someone. I sure do not want a 100lb bale to land on me. What should have taken 30 minutes ended up taking over a hour and a half. Between the flock every single bale was inspected and approved, so much so that Butter laid on a bale this morning. Thank you girlie for making me climb up the stack and go halfway back to get it. Next load in a couple months, every single one of them is getting locked up.
I cannot remember the chickens ever getting involved in hay when we were doing it. And the chickens ran free on the farm. We never considered locking them up as this never happened. That is amazing! I can see this lot that I have doing that for sure, underfoot the whole way.

I love this story. Thanks for sharing it!

Wait until I tell my Dad. Of course his response will probably be, "once you squash one the others will learn".
 
I wanted to get flock raiser pellets - it showed as in stock on line but was mysteriously not visible. I asked and was told 'flock raiser doesn't come in pellets'. I gave up.
Perfect. Happens all the time.

I wonder how many of us Tractor Supply sucked into the chicken world?
 
Human scale works. Weigh yourself first and do the math. I would love to know how big they get. Daisy, the greatest hen ever, weighed less than 5 lbs. There is not much to a leghorn weight wise (excluding Tsuki, for obvious reasons). I figure a legbar is a little bigger chicken.
Tonight’s roosting arrangement. I guess the little Princesses really aren’t that little. In case you can’t tell they are the two monster-sized chickens on the far left.
6EF9907E-847E-411E-81DA-FA38E8FCC841.jpeg
 
I cannot remember the chickens ever getting involved in hay when we were doing it. And the chickens ran free on the farm. We never considered locking them up as this never happened. That is amazing! I can see this lot that I have doing that for sure, underfoot the whole way.

I love this story. Thanks for sharing it!

Wait until I tell my Dad. Of course his response will probably be, "once you squash one the others will learn".
I fully admit this is a problem I most likely created allowing them their way to be underfoot as chores are done. That and the majority now being friendly busybodies. I'm sure your dad is right though, and the thought did run through my head halfway through of taking a chance on squishing one. But then there is the golden rule of if something happens to a chicken it will be your favorite. Butter was safe with me, Holly and Daisy on the other hand would have been prime squishing targets.
 
I'm OK with it as I remember our first ladies came from there and those are happy memories.
That’s where most of my flock came from. Seven of them. Then I got five in July that came from hatcheries through the mail. (I lost three of those to a predator).
My TSC hens are quite healthy, I have to say, and good looking!
:celebrate
 
I fully admit this is a problem I most likely created allowing them their way to be underfoot as chores are done. That and the majority now being friendly busybodies. I'm sure your dad is right though, and the thought did run through my head halfway through of taking a chance on squishing one. But then there is the golden rule of if something happens to a chicken it will be your favorite. Butter was safe with me, Holly and Daisy on the other hand would have been prime squishing targets.
My Dad is very "traditional" in his view of livestock. 🙄
 

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