I would NOT want to faint in a chicken coop!

lol this thread is too funny!

My problem is the opposite of most people. I am a bit of a hippie when it comes to going barefoot, so my girls know what mommie's toes look like and don't bother them. One day I step out on my porch with my socks on, and all my chickens were AMAZED, and ganged up on my feet!!

I had to retreat back to the house because I was being tickled to death! My DH took the opportunity to say "I told you that you need to wear shoes more often"
 
I know that If I fell asleep in the coop in the winter time, they would use me as a heating pad. I'd wake up covered in doggie snacks I'm sure...lol.
Gotta add tiny frays in fabric, holes, tiny paint spots, strands of hair, anything really..
 
Just a few days ago, I painted my toenails and they had polkadots. I went into the coop to take care of the chickens and they were pecking away at my toes. Also, I was in there a few times and they were pecking my freckles. At first I thought it was cute...... Until it hurt!!!
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It stinks when 5 chickens peck. Some of them really pull the skin!


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Yikes, that's a scary thought! I have a neurological disorder that causes me to faint about 5 +x a week- I try to be careful around the chicks so I don't squash them. Never thought about the fact that when they are larger I am going to have to protect myself!! I better wear some sort of body armor around them
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Yikes, that's a scary thought! I have a neurological disorder that causes me to faint about 5 +x a week- I try to be careful around the chicks so I don't squash them. Never thought about the fact that when they are larger I am going to have to protect myself!! I better wear some sort of body armor around them
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Ok I just picture I Knights armor taking care of chickens!!!! hahahaha
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I wear a variety of Crocs, and yes, they do peck through the holes. But it doesn't hurt that much, really!

My RED Crocs are something I will never wear in the yard again - my dominant Roo, Carl, cannot stand them. He gets all fixated and growly and stalks them; I have to say his name loudly to break his concentration. So after two such occasions, I just decided not to ever wear the red ones in the yard any more.

I fell once, slipped on wet adobe clay, and landed on my back with my glasses all catty-wampus on my face. The fall knocked my breath from me for a second. Suddenly I realized I had a chicken on my chest, peering into one lens of my crooked glasses. "Bok?"

And there were several other chickens gathering....

It is hard for an old, "chunky" gal like me to get up when I'm down, but the thought of being the flock's next big meal made me get up as quickly as I could.
 

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