Why do we love the keets like we do?
Unlike our dogs, cats, horses and even chickens, guinea keets never, no matter what we do, no matter the amount of attention it takes to raise them, bond with us. They run and flail with panic every time we put our hand near them, despite the fact that we feed them, keep them warm, and keep them safe, no matter how many times a day. Yet we adore them....the way the new keets peck at food from the first sight of it......the way they fuss at each other when they want to rest together.....the way they try their tiny wings and how they dart around just for practice. We love the beautiful markings on their tiny heads, and we somehow take credit for how fast they grow. Our hearts swell when we hear the first "Buckwheat!" And yet, every day is another reminder of how strongly they feel that we are strangers with good food. When they are adults, we feel they belong to us....we watch their courtships and dramas and their battles with the ghost of other guineas in shiny wheels and mirrors. We call, "Here Guinea, Guinea, Guinea!" And they come running for their food, but never a closer degree of familiarity. And yet we love them.
We're a big ole pack of Suckers.
Unlike our dogs, cats, horses and even chickens, guinea keets never, no matter what we do, no matter the amount of attention it takes to raise them, bond with us. They run and flail with panic every time we put our hand near them, despite the fact that we feed them, keep them warm, and keep them safe, no matter how many times a day. Yet we adore them....the way the new keets peck at food from the first sight of it......the way they fuss at each other when they want to rest together.....the way they try their tiny wings and how they dart around just for practice. We love the beautiful markings on their tiny heads, and we somehow take credit for how fast they grow. Our hearts swell when we hear the first "Buckwheat!" And yet, every day is another reminder of how strongly they feel that we are strangers with good food. When they are adults, we feel they belong to us....we watch their courtships and dramas and their battles with the ghost of other guineas in shiny wheels and mirrors. We call, "Here Guinea, Guinea, Guinea!" And they come running for their food, but never a closer degree of familiarity. And yet we love them.
We're a big ole pack of Suckers.
