Shadrach's Ex Battery and Rescued chickens thread.

and that is American exceptionalism ;) . The rest of the world calls that rugby-shaped ball an American football, and the round one that is kicked with a foot, football :lol:
I know, my partner Juan is a soccer aficionado. He follows the Spanish league and calls Real Madrid "his team" -- even though he is not from Madrid, or even Spanish, nor has he ever been to Spain. :confused:

I tend to think of American exceptionalism as a more nefarious outlier of imperialism and American "football" as more of a parochial colloquialism. But maybe that's because I really really like American football and what the rest of the world calls football bores me to tears.

Politically and personally, I'm staunchly anti-imperialist and will regale anyone who will listen with tales of insidious Global North domination, covert CIA operations, lists of coups and brutal dictatorships backed and funded by the red, white, and blue. Of course, one could make a case that even the worst behaviors of the USA are akin to a wayward and spoiled son imitating his parent, who once flew the Union Jack over a quarter of the globe...

However, I was a mere child under Regan (and his good buddy Thatcher) and the constant barrage of truly terrifying "we're all going to die in global nuclear holocaust" cold war propaganda left it's indelible marks on my tender adolescent mind. Despite all my current rantings against the neo-colonial corporatocracy, I remain weirdly nostalgic for the silliest and most vapid manifestations of American cheese of that era: pro wrestling, movies like Top Gun, Rocky IV, and football on the TV on Sundays for 12 hours straight.

So I have tried, really I have, to get into what my Yankee redneck brain insists on calling soccer. I sit with my partner Juan and watch these ultra-fit young men in their Air Emirates sponsored stadiums earning 30 million dollars per year scrambling around a grass field pretending they don't have hands and all I can think is,

"Fercrissakes pick up the $#&*!#@ ball!"

Totally off topic tax. One of Tina's chicks taking off.

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All things considered (arriving early, ill etc.) it sounds like your sister's visit was extremely trying Shad :hugs I hope it doesn't end up wrecking your eldest's birthday celebrations too.


As soon as possible was breakfast. Offered Chirk his breakfast outside the pen this am, before opening the other coops. He ventured out cautiously, ate well, then moved in increasing circles around the lawn and up to the feeding station. So then I put out the food bowls and released the rest of the flock (bar Pa and her tiny chicks). Hens arrived first there (of course!) and Chirk was doing his tidbitting, just like old times, then the 3 roos arrived, and he moved carefully away and towards me when he was at risk of being caught in a pincer movement between K and Ff. K went for him, and tumbled him head over heals; I intervened (verbal only required) as C went round the back of the trampoline, and when I lifted the net there for him, he went straight in and hid in the bin. I think that was an entirely natural response, and that altogether it shows he is not fearful per se and I need to try again this afternoon, when the 3 roos are dispersed. If they are going to work together and treat him as they would a predator, however, it is not going to work. He'll need a new home where he's the only roo, or confinement for the rest of his days.
I'm following this story and hoping for the best for Chirk. He's come a long way under your care.

I don't have very much experience, but when Butchie (my hen who died of reproductive disorder) was living more or less confined in our kitchen -- although she went out for at least an hour per day she came back in on her own -- Cleo would always come and spend time with her voluntarily every day. If it was nice outside, perhaps and hour or two. If it was raining, often the entire afternoon. That really made Butchie feel better, I think. After Cleo died, Butchie hung on for another 2 months, and as much as I gave her love and attention, I'm not a chicken, and she was lonely. It wasn't just "other chickens" she needed. She was the last of her tribe. I don't think she would have lived much longer anyway, her condition was terminal. But I believe the time she spent with Cleo for company helped her feel a sense of belonging.

Is there one of your chickens who goes to see Chirk more regularly? One who wouldn't mind being in his trampoline space for an hour or two? I'm kind of with Molpet and fluffycrow in thinking it could help his sense of connection.
 
I know, my partner Juan is a soccer aficionado. He follows the Spanish league and calls Real Madrid "his team" -- even though he is not from Madrid, or even Spanish, nor has he ever been to Spain. :confused:

I tend to think of American exceptionalism as a more nefarious outlier of imperialism and American "football" as more of a parochial colloquialism. But maybe that's because I really really like American football and what the rest of the world calls football bores me to tears.

Politically and personally, I'm staunchly anti-imperialist and will regale anyone who will listen with tales of insidious Global North domination, covert CIA operations, lists of coups and brutal dictatorships backed and funded by the red, white, and blue. Of course, one could make a case that even the worst behaviors of the USA are akin to a wayward and spoiled son imitating his parent, who once flew the Union Jack over a quarter of the globe...

However, I was a mere child under Regan (and his good buddy Thatcher) and the constant barrage of truly terrifying "we're all going to die in global nuclear holocaust" cold war propaganda left it's indelible marks on my tender adolescent mind. Despite all my current rantings against the neo-colonial corporatocracy, I remain weirdly nostalgic for the silliest and most vapid manifestations of American cheese of that era: pro wrestling, movies like Top Gun, Rocky IV, and football on the TV on Sundays for 12 hours straight.

So I have tried, really I have, to get into what my Yankee redneck brain insists on calling soccer. I sit with my partner Juan and watch these ultra-fit young men in their Air Emirates sponsored stadiums earning 30 million dollars per year scrambling around a grass field pretending they don't have hands and all I can think is,

"Fercrissakes pick up the $#&*!#@ ball!"

Totally off topic tax. One of Tina's chicks taking off.

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History is interesting. Humans have been trying to take over the world since anyone wrote it down. Never satisfied with what they have and spoils of war to the Victor. A little more covert now, in some cases, is all.
 
History is interesting. Humans have been trying to take over the world since anyone wrote it down. Never satisfied with what they have and spoils of war to the Victor. A little more covert now, in some cases, is all.
Exactly. Exit East India Tea Company. Enter World Economic Forum.
 
I don't know rooster dynamics at all, but would it be at all possible/practical/helpful to remove Fforest for a little while so Chirk can integrate back in? I'm really rooting for him. As well as my favorite baseball team, no football or football (soccer) for me. My beloved Nevada for tax.
 

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would it be at all possible/practical/helpful to remove Fforest for a little while so Chirk can integrate back in? I'm really rooting for him.
not really; remember there are no pens here, so containment of any is always ramshackle and temporary, and anyway the dom Killay launched the attack this morning; Fforest was just his wing man. I'm really rooting for Chirk too, and he had another 20 minutes on the lawn this pm, even sunbathing for a while with some female company (5 different hens came to say hello in that time) before Fforest appeared and chased him again.

None of the hens I have invited to join him under the trampoline is keen on the idea btw @Molpet @fluffycrow and @TropicalChickies
 

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