Fluffy Butt Acres: Stories of our flock

[BY Bob]

I really am excited to learn how to do a fecal float!

Said no one ever in microbiology class in college (university).

 

[Scrambles83]

Dual purpose you know. Not her fault.

Hahaha! The time she blocked out the sun on the camera
I love her beautiful bulk

 

[BY Bob]

Hey all.
Bob said I could share this on here. Thanks again for that @BY Bob
Although my short story didn’t win, it sounds like it was well received which is nice.

View attachment 2615523

So here it is, be kind
The topic was ‘the gift’.
Sorry it makes for a VERY long post!


FAR FROM PALTRY; THE POULTRY GIFT.

A new adventure for us. A new life for sisters that knew nothing but cramped conditions and sadness.
The gift of my feathered ladies.

When we first brought you two girls home we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, of how you would become part of our inner circle. Our toddler gave you the names Henny Penny and Bok Bok; Penny and Bok for short.
The gift of family.

You were hesitant at first when you were let out of your coop and into our yard to free range. Soon enough you were Queens of the lands you surveyed, never worrying if it was a plant, weed or a new garden bed you happened to be scratching up.
The gift of freedom.

I loved to sit in the sun and watch the two of you dust bath. I would read my book and listen to your bawks, clucks and trills as you relished in the chicken-y things that made your life joyful. The squeaks when you found a particularly tasty bug and wanted the other one to know about it, or when you would get corn and you couldn’t contain your passion for the golden kernels you were swiftly devouring.
The gift of pure happiness.

Of course then there were the beautiful big, brown eggs, so delicious that eating store bought ones now makes me melancholy. They will never be as lovely as what you gave us, my sweet girls.
The gift of perfect sustenance.

When you first free ranged with our terrier you were so unsure, but he was gentle and eventually you found peace with him. You did challenge him on more than one occasion where food was concerned. It was lucky he’s a goof and just barked in response.
The gift of diversity.

I remember it hailing really hard one day in July of ‘19. Our very young daughter and I went out to see you girls exploring in the little ice spheres, deep against the fence of your run. She starting saying ‘Happy Christmas, chickens!’ to you and it made my heart warm even though we were quite chilled.
The gift of nature.

When you tried awkwardly to sit on my lap while I was reading on the outside couch on a warm summer evening;clambering along the edge of the patio furniture, swaying this way and that with your destination always at the forefront of your minds.
The gift of adventure.

I clearly recall when you fell ill, Penny. I did what I could, as much as my narrow knowledge allowed. I soaked you in warm baths, I felt for eggs that may have been stuck, I trimmed your messy feathers so you would still have your fluffy butt hence your dignity. I sobbed when I knew there was no saving you. This impending loss of a companion I never expected to love so much weighed heavily on my heart. You spent your last night back out in the coop with Bok, together until the end.
The gift of sisterly bonds.

Bok became lonely without you. My heart broke when she would call out for you, thinking you had just been separated by backyard obstacles. After a time or two, when you never answered, she stopped trying. She lost her zest for life and began to give a growly crow when coming out to greet each day. I knew I had to do something, Bok.
The gift of compassion.

I was unsure I was taking the right path when I brought home two pullets. You then proceeded to boss them around; letting them know who the top bird was. I saw your enthusiasm return and my heart grew lighter.
The gift of friendship anew.

Now, old friend, your time is fast running out. Each day that passes I see it looming to greet us. I thought I would be more prepared when your chapter closed. I was fooling myself. You sit on my knee, letting me stroke your soft feathers in the sunshine, falling asleep like the old lady that you are. Your body is giving up, maybe I should not be so selfish and hear what you are trying to tell me. Truth be told, I’m just not ready yet.
The gift of contrition.

You began as providers of eggs but became so much more.
At the end of the day, the gift of love is one we gave each other in spades.

This really does touch my heart in a special way. You are quite talented. ❤

 

[BY Bob]

@Scrambles83
There are literally tears running down my face. What a lovely tribute!

That was my reaction as well but I figure I'm a softie. I'm glad that others like it. It's very moving.

 

[BY Bob]

So lovely. It made me cry. Beautifully written. I can’t imagine why it didn’t win but that feels unimportant.
Thank you for sharing.

I'm so glad she shared it here for everyone to enjoy. Wonderfully written.

 

[BY Bob]

Hahaha! The time she blocked out the sun on the camera
I love her beautiful bulk

So do I.

 

[Scrambles83]

I'm so glad she shared it here for everyone to enjoy. Wonderfully written.

Thank you for giving me the platform to share it
I am just so pleased you guys like it too.
It’s always hard when you write about something that’s close to your heart because it will always give you the emotion you are feeling, but it might not do the same for others that read it.

 

[featherhead007]

Hey all.
Bob said I could share this on here. Thanks again for that @BY Bob
Although my short story didn’t win, it sounds like it was well received which is nice.

View attachment 2615523

So here it is, be kind
The topic was ‘the gift’.
Sorry it makes for a VERY long post!


FAR FROM PALTRY; THE POULTRY GIFT.

A new adventure for us. A new life for sisters that knew nothing but cramped conditions and sadness.
The gift of my feathered ladies.

When we first brought you two girls home we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, of how you would become part of our inner circle. Our toddler gave you the names Henny Penny and Bok Bok; Penny and Bok for short.
The gift of family.

You were hesitant at first when you were let out of your coop and into our yard to free range. Soon enough you were Queens of the lands you surveyed, never worrying if it was a plant, weed or a new garden bed you happened to be scratching up.
The gift of freedom.

I loved to sit in the sun and watch the two of you dust bath. I would read my book and listen to your bawks, clucks and trills as you relished in the chicken-y things that made your life joyful. The squeaks when you found a particularly tasty bug and wanted the other one to know about it, or when you would get corn and you couldn’t contain your passion for the golden kernels you were swiftly devouring.
The gift of pure happiness.

Of course then there were the beautiful big, brown eggs, so delicious that eating store bought ones now makes me melancholy. They will never be as lovely as what you gave us, my sweet girls.
The gift of perfect sustenance.

When you first free ranged with our terrier you were so unsure, but he was gentle and eventually you found peace with him. You did challenge him on more than one occasion where food was concerned. It was lucky he’s a goof and just barked in response.
The gift of diversity.

I remember it hailing really hard one day in July of ‘19. Our very young daughter and I went out to see you girls exploring in the little ice spheres, deep against the fence of your run. She starting saying ‘Happy Christmas, chickens!’ to you and it made my heart warm even though we were quite chilled.
The gift of nature.

When you tried awkwardly to sit on my lap while I was reading on the outside couch on a warm summer evening;clambering along the edge of the patio furniture, swaying this way and that with your destination always at the forefront of your minds.
The gift of adventure.

I clearly recall when you fell ill, Penny. I did what I could, as much as my narrow knowledge allowed. I soaked you in warm baths, I felt for eggs that may have been stuck, I trimmed your messy feathers so you would still have your fluffy butt hence your dignity. I sobbed when I knew there was no saving you. This impending loss of a companion I never expected to love so much weighed heavily on my heart. You spent your last night back out in the coop with Bok, together until the end.
The gift of sisterly bonds.

Bok became lonely without you. My heart broke when she would call out for you, thinking you had just been separated by backyard obstacles. After a time or two, when you never answered, she stopped trying. She lost her zest for life and began to give a growly crow when coming out to greet each day. I knew I had to do something, Bok.
The gift of compassion.

I was unsure I was taking the right path when I brought home two pullets. You then proceeded to boss them around; letting them know who the top bird was. I saw your enthusiasm return and my heart grew lighter.
The gift of friendship anew.

Now, old friend, your time is fast running out. Each day that passes I see it looming to greet us. I thought I would be more prepared when your chapter closed. I was fooling myself. You sit on my knee, letting me stroke your soft feathers in the sunshine, falling asleep like the old lady that you are. Your body is giving up, maybe I should not be so selfish and hear what you are trying to tell me. Truth be told, I’m just not ready yet.
The gift of contrition.

You began as providers of eggs but became so much more.
At the end of the day, the gift of love is one we gave each other in spades.

 

[featherhead007]

My little “Xzit “ isn’t feeling well. I have had her in with me all night. She was weak and being picked on by the others.
Even the least of my birds, is no less important to me than the best!

 

[RoyalChick]

My little “Xzit “ isn’t feeling well. I have had her in with me all night. She was weak and being picked on by the others.
Even the least of my birds, is no less important to me than the best!

Poor little Xzit. I hope she perks up today.
How is your hand?