Oh Barbara, that's no way to act about the snow. Embrace it! Make snow angels! Just don't eat the yellow snow, 'cuz that's just gross
The adventures of Barbara (BR)
- Thread starter MrsChickendad
- Start date
"Life is good and baby chickies are new life." MrsChickendad
Amen to that, sista, I couldn't agree more. xoxo Caroline
Amen to that, sista, I couldn't agree more. xoxo Caroline
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Well said!
Well said!
- Thread starter
- #1,466
Possumbilities
It was practically a heat wave in Michigan today. Chickendad went out and shoveled some of the snow that had turned to ice and was threatening to trip up the Chickendads the next time they came outdoors. He opened the door to the Big Coop and the Big Chickies went outside for the first time in a looooong time. They had to be coaxed a bit with sunflower seeds, and they flew over the snowdrifts rather than walking on them, but they had fun. The boys were especially prissy about getting their feet wet.
Chickendad is working on a new coop and puttered around with that for the rest of the afternoon. As it began to get dark, he started getting everyone locked up for the night. The Big Chickies were wandering around outside the door, and they are usually the first to go to bed at night. Barbara was stamping up and down in the driveway muttering under her breath. The Big Chickie Boys were just milling around, but no one wanted to go in the coop.
Rats! thought Chickendad. Maybe they have been cooped up too long. They are going to give me a hard time about bedtime.
He went out to change the water and fill the feeders, and came face to face with the reason the Chickie Girls would not go in. The Reason had two beady eyes, little naked feet and a big long naked tail. It smiled at him with its sharp, pointy teeth. Grabbing a broom as a weapon, Chickendad chased the possum into a corner of the coop where he could open the pop door and trap it in the outside pen. The possum was very cooperative, considering his assailant was a pudgy older man waving a yellow house broom.
Once the possum was locked in the outside pen, Chickendad came looking for assistance. Mrs. Chickendad was sleeping soundly, recuperating from the recent visit of Chickenboy, and she was pretty much down for the count. However, once she came to her senses (still a matter of debate) she pulled on a pair of jeans and her chicken shoes and proceeded out to the coop with a dog crate. Of course, with all the melting snow, the chicken shoes leaked profusely (one reason they are chicken shoes).
The Chickendads pushed the crate into the corner of the pen and encouraged the possum inside with the yellow broom. It went in semi-willingly, and they loaded the crate into the back of the van for the possum relocation project. They had a spot in mind to rehome the critter, but when they arrived they realized there were too many houses and the possum would just make a nuisance of itself for those people. So they traveled over the river and through the woods until they came upon a suitable habitat for everyone concerned.
In the meantime, the possum had been enjoying the warmth of the car and was settling in for a nice nap. Mrs. Chickendad was beginning to notice that the possum was stinking up the car, but it may have been her wet chicken shoes. Relocation was steadily becoming more and more important.
Upon finding the right spot, Chickendad cut the lights, so as not to arouse suspicion that something even more strange was going on, and they lifted the crate and sleepy possum out onto the ground. The possum was quite comfortable, thank you very much, and content to remain in the crate. Of course, the crate they had chosen was a large one and quite awkward. The Chickendads tried to shake the possum out. It just curled up in the corner and grabbed the wire. They took out the floor pan and shook the crate. The possum latched on to the wires with its naked pink toes and hung on. They turned it upside down and shook it. That was one strong possum!
Finally, the critter let go at just the right time and the Chickendads unceremoniously dumped it out onto the ground. It toddled off into the underbrush, hopefully never to return to the Big Coop.
The ride home was uneventful, the essence of opossum was gone. The essence of chicken shoes, however, remained for the rest of the trip.
It was practically a heat wave in Michigan today. Chickendad went out and shoveled some of the snow that had turned to ice and was threatening to trip up the Chickendads the next time they came outdoors. He opened the door to the Big Coop and the Big Chickies went outside for the first time in a looooong time. They had to be coaxed a bit with sunflower seeds, and they flew over the snowdrifts rather than walking on them, but they had fun. The boys were especially prissy about getting their feet wet.
Chickendad is working on a new coop and puttered around with that for the rest of the afternoon. As it began to get dark, he started getting everyone locked up for the night. The Big Chickies were wandering around outside the door, and they are usually the first to go to bed at night. Barbara was stamping up and down in the driveway muttering under her breath. The Big Chickie Boys were just milling around, but no one wanted to go in the coop.
Rats! thought Chickendad. Maybe they have been cooped up too long. They are going to give me a hard time about bedtime.
He went out to change the water and fill the feeders, and came face to face with the reason the Chickie Girls would not go in. The Reason had two beady eyes, little naked feet and a big long naked tail. It smiled at him with its sharp, pointy teeth. Grabbing a broom as a weapon, Chickendad chased the possum into a corner of the coop where he could open the pop door and trap it in the outside pen. The possum was very cooperative, considering his assailant was a pudgy older man waving a yellow house broom.
Once the possum was locked in the outside pen, Chickendad came looking for assistance. Mrs. Chickendad was sleeping soundly, recuperating from the recent visit of Chickenboy, and she was pretty much down for the count. However, once she came to her senses (still a matter of debate) she pulled on a pair of jeans and her chicken shoes and proceeded out to the coop with a dog crate. Of course, with all the melting snow, the chicken shoes leaked profusely (one reason they are chicken shoes).
The Chickendads pushed the crate into the corner of the pen and encouraged the possum inside with the yellow broom. It went in semi-willingly, and they loaded the crate into the back of the van for the possum relocation project. They had a spot in mind to rehome the critter, but when they arrived they realized there were too many houses and the possum would just make a nuisance of itself for those people. So they traveled over the river and through the woods until they came upon a suitable habitat for everyone concerned.
In the meantime, the possum had been enjoying the warmth of the car and was settling in for a nice nap. Mrs. Chickendad was beginning to notice that the possum was stinking up the car, but it may have been her wet chicken shoes. Relocation was steadily becoming more and more important.
Upon finding the right spot, Chickendad cut the lights, so as not to arouse suspicion that something even more strange was going on, and they lifted the crate and sleepy possum out onto the ground. The possum was quite comfortable, thank you very much, and content to remain in the crate. Of course, the crate they had chosen was a large one and quite awkward. The Chickendads tried to shake the possum out. It just curled up in the corner and grabbed the wire. They took out the floor pan and shook the crate. The possum latched on to the wires with its naked pink toes and hung on. They turned it upside down and shook it. That was one strong possum!
Finally, the critter let go at just the right time and the Chickendads unceremoniously dumped it out onto the ground. It toddled off into the underbrush, hopefully never to return to the Big Coop.
The ride home was uneventful, the essence of opossum was gone. The essence of chicken shoes, however, remained for the rest of the trip.
sounds like Chickenmom stepped in chickie berries.
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Thank heavens the girls were smart enough not to go in with the possum!
Another great story, Mrs. Chickendad. Glad there was a happy ending for all involved.
Another great story, Mrs. Chickendad. Glad there was a happy ending for all involved.
- Thread starter
- #1,470
We are grateful to have discovered the possum. We think it had been living under the Big Coop, and would probably have had babies under there. As it stands, it will have to walk 7 miles, crossing the Shiawassee River and M-71 to get "home". We hope it does not have that much of a homing instinct.
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