Or how about I can’t see any of my wild birds at the feeder since I had to move it out of sight to inside the fence so Elvis would stop jumping it to gorge on suet droppings?
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We also named this year's chicks after spices/herbs, Nutmeg, Elote, Lavender, and Parsley.Squirrels are definitely worse. I lace my seed with cayenne powder.
I also have a Nutmeg. Along with a Chicory, Paprika, and Pepper. However I couldn’t tell you who is who as they look identical (save pepper who is a barred rock). They are the Spice Girls.
Blondies are not the sharpest tools in the kit. We've got one called Blondie too and she is just dumb.It’s amazing how my chickens have figured out my lack of fortitude, every afternoon when I have to hobble around the yard cussing them out trying to get them all back in the run before work, I tell myself “nope, not tomorrow, not doing it”.
And then I do it. The joys of releasing them as they take a bouncy flight directly to the wild bird feeder to see if they can find any dropped suet. Scratching around in the cool wet dirt as it’s been a blistering summer, clucking back and forth discussing their finds. Blondie chasing the little ones. The big girls chasing the little ones, such is the circle of life.
And then it’s time for me to get ready to go to work. I prepare my bag of grapes, the three oldest are determined to trip and further injure my knee as I limp towards the run door. Paloma jumps up and pecks the bag as I am taking too long to dispense them. I calculate throwing the grapes to the furthest corner of the run so the big ones are longer preoccupied as I try to quickly coerce the other five to run in before the meanies return for more gluttonous grapes. They make a run for it.. except Blondie as she doesn’t understand the concept of running in the open door. Nah, she runs straight into the corner. I chase her around for another ten minutes before I can corner her and make a grab. I ceremoniously toss her into the coop before any others can weasel out.
That is a good day mind you. It worsens dependent on how many times I have escapees, how full of grapes they are, and how vigilant they feel being, well, vigilantes. These variables can lead to a truly frustrating situation where I temporarily lose sanity.
Geez. Mother does not know best on this one!My 2 3-weeks old chicks and mum were separated in a pen inside the large run where the rest of the flock resides. Not even one hour and the chicks were out, mum breaking through the fence, only to be attacked by the flock and me having to step in to separate them all again.
I think my next animal behaviour research project will be called:"The effect of temporary fencing on the jerk-ness of domestic chickens."