Most evil chicken, turkey, goose and Guinea fowl contest..

[AxolotlLove]

Thanks for your entry. She seems like a "sweetheart".   Have you considered Parrot stew?

Lol I think she'd tip the pot over

 

[NathanZee]

Oh yea, easily the most beautiful bird I own. Timphani (her name, she's named after a loud drum) is a great singer, but she sings with words, her favorite song to sing right now "starships" by Nikki Manaj. Rosellas aren'tknown to be much of talkers with human speech, but she is a mix. As I'm writing this my favorite Canary boy is singing for the first time!!! I guess he likes Meghan Trainor

Cool name! I didn't know you could crossbreed parrots. Does the canary sing the tune or the words?

 

[AxolotlLove]

He can whistle the time of "My Selfish Heart" a bit

 

[Serenashome]

Disclaimer: We do not plan on raising chickens this way! Blame my family for this story.

When I was 8 years old I lived on an 80 acre alfalfa farm. We had chickens, large white leghorn chickens with roosters as tall as my chest. We also had turkeys, geese, and ducks, so some of you will understand the depth of my trauma.

It was my job in the mornings before school to go get the eggs. We had about 50 chickens in an open air coop that led to a run that was wire fenced in. If I remember correctly there's no way this space was bigger than 10x10.

All 50 of them were evil. They were cramped and hungry and competitive. (the adult in me knows this, the 8 yr old child me did not) They hated me. The roosters would lay wait by the coop door and spur me the second I walked in, the hens would peck my hands until they bled while I collected eggs.

So one day I had had enough of this evil chicken nonsense. I had received a "bloogle" for Christmas , for those of you who don't know what that is, think vacuum cleaner hose that you spin around your head while it makes whirly sounds very loudly. This bloogle was my revenge. I got up early one morning, bloogle in hand and headed to the coop. I walked in with a SMILE on my face and whirled that thing for all I was worth around in circles above my head.

What happened next I recall in slow motion much like you would a car accident. FEATHERS EVERYWHERE! CHICKENS EVERYWHERE! They flew up against the cage wire, they ran in circles, they jumped on and off roosts. My grandfather ran to the coop, my grandmother was screaming my full name over and over, and then I came to my senses. I laid the bloogle down and the silence was deafening. Everything stopped.

The chickens didn't lay for weeks, a couple of them molted. Did the evilness stop? Nooooo.... Only a brief respite of about a week or two before we were back to their old routine of stress relief in the form of torturing me.


So there's my evil chicken story. Not sure who the real villain in this is though.

 

[duluthralphie]

Disclaimer: We do not plan on raising chickens this way! Blame my family for this story.

When I was 8 years old I lived on an 80 acre alfalfa farm. We had chickens, large white leghorn chickens with roosters as tall as my chest. We also had turkeys, geese, and ducks, so some of you will understand the depth of my trauma.

It was my job in the mornings before school to go get the eggs. We had about 50 chickens in an open air coop that led to a run that was wire fenced in. If I remember correctly there's no way this space was bigger than 10x10.

All 50 of them were evil. They were cramped and hungry and competitive. (the adult in me knows this, the 8 yr old child me did not) They hated me. The roosters would lay wait by the coop door and spur me the second I walked in, the hens would peck my hands until they bled while I collected eggs.

So one day I had had enough of this evil chicken nonsense. I had received a "bloogle" for Christmas , for those of you who don't know what that is, think vacuum cleaner hose that you spin around your head while it makes whirly sounds very loudly. This bloogle was my revenge. I got up early one morning, bloogle in hand and headed to the coop. I walked in with a SMILE on my face and whirled that thing for all I was worth around in circles above my head.

What happened next I recall in slow motion much like you would a car accident. FEATHERS EVERYWHERE! CHICKENS EVERYWHERE! They flew up against the cage wire, they ran in circles, they jumped on and off roosts. My grandfather ran to the coop, my grandmother was screaming my full name over and over, and then I came to my senses. I laid the bloogle down and the silence was deafening. Everything stopped.

The chickens didn't lay for weeks, a couple of them molted. Did the evilness stop? Nooooo.... Only a brief respite of about a week or two before we were back to their old routine of stress relief in the form of torturing me.


So there's my evil chicken story. Not sure who the real villain in this is though.

Oh wow, I am laughing so hard at the vision this paints...BUT I think the villain was you....

I loved the story.

 

[Serenashome]

Oh wow, I am laughing so hard at the vision this paints...BUT I think the villain was you....

I loved the story.

I admit I may be partially guilty

 

[NathanZee]

Disclaimer: We do not plan on raising chickens this way! Blame my family for this story.

When I was 8 years old I lived on an 80 acre alfalfa farm. We had chickens, large white leghorn chickens with roosters as tall as my chest. We also had turkeys, geese, and ducks, so some of you will understand the depth of my trauma.

It was my job in the mornings before school to go get the eggs. We had about 50 chickens in an open air coop that led to a run that was wire fenced in. If I remember correctly there's no way this space was bigger than 10x10.

All 50 of them were evil. They were cramped and hungry and competitive. (the adult in me knows this, the 8 yr old child me did not) They hated me. The roosters would lay wait by the coop door and spur me the second I walked in, the hens would peck my hands until they bled while I collected eggs.

So one day I had had enough of this evil chicken nonsense. I had received a "bloogle" for Christmas , for those of you who don't know what that is, think vacuum cleaner hose that you spin around your head while it makes whirly sounds very loudly. This bloogle was my revenge. I got up early one morning, bloogle in hand and headed to the coop. I walked in with a SMILE on my face and whirled that thing for all I was worth around in circles above my head.

What happened next I recall in slow motion much like you would a car accident. FEATHERS EVERYWHERE! CHICKENS EVERYWHERE! They flew up against the cage wire, they ran in circles, they jumped on and off roosts. My grandfather ran to the coop, my grandmother was screaming my full name over and over, and then I came to my senses. I laid the bloogle down and the silence was deafening. Everything stopped.

The chickens didn't lay for weeks, a couple of them molted. Did the evilness stop? Nooooo.... Only a brief respite of about a week or two before we were back to their old routine of stress relief in the form of torturing me.


So there's my evil chicken story. Not sure who the real villain in this is though.

That sounds like a nightmare!

 

[N F C]

@Serenashome I know just how those chickens felt. I used to work in a small store that sold bloogles. Groups of 6-8 customers whirling those at the same time used to make me feel the way those leghorns did!

 

[duluthralphie]

@Serenashome I know just how those chickens felt. I used to work in a small store that sold bloogles. Groups of 6-8 customers whirling those at the same time used to make me feel the way those leghorns did!

Did you shed your feathers and try to jump through the windows too???

 

[N F C]

Did you shed your feathers and try to jump through the windows too???

How did you know?!?!? Were you one of those evil customers?