Ended WINNERS ANNOUNCED - Official BYC Mini Contest #2 - Tell Us Your Best Chicken Story

[theoldchick]

As usual my day was perfect. I had a beautiful flock of young gals who thought I was the King of The World. I eyed Big Sister and her full bustle and did a fancy wing dance toward her. She raised her head and glared at me so I turned about to search for food. Food always won over Big Sister. I knew a good spot and as I strutted my way across the yard, I noticed a human at the back of the Food Lady's house. I never seen this human before so I paused and did a wattle wave to let the girls know how handsome I was. April was impressed but Big Sister has also seen the strange man at the back of the house.

"Who is that?" she asked me.

"I don't know," I admitted and flapped my wings. "All right girls. I'm going to see who this human is. He might have food. I'll let you know."

Big Sister adjusted her bustle which distracted me but she gave me a peck on my left wattle to remind me of my duty. At first I remained near the trees, glancing at the sky for Mrs. Hawk. Dooley, the Blue Jay hopped on a nearby branch.

"What's up, Steele?" he wanted to know.

"I'm watching that man," I told him. "I've never seen him before."

Dooley swayed with the branch as a breeze pushed from the North. "He's acting strange. Look how his eyes are darting about. He's up to something. He might be a chicken thief."

I flared my wattles in alarm. "Well, I better check him out. Let me know if Mrs. Hawk shows up."

One eye on the man and one eye on the sky, I scouted my way across the yard. The grass had just been cut and there were scads of dead bugs to entice Big Sister with but I had to find out who the stranger was. Dooley was right. This stranger was looking in the window then looking over his back way to often. Most strangers simply went to the door, knocked, and the Food Lady came out.

I cackled a question at the man. He ignored me so I cackled louder. This time he turned around from peering in the window and looked at me. I looked at him, waiting for his move. Did he have food? Was he lost?

Incredibly, he stomped his foot and kicked at me. No, no, no, he did not. He was a stranger and he was a rude one. Nobody kicks at me like that. I raised my hackle feathers at him in warning. Shockingly, the man charged and shouted his challenge. I charged and jumped high with spurs ready. The man dodged and swung at me. His fist connected with my chest and the ground slammed into my back.

Now I was thoroughly enraged as my Dino ancestors came alive within me. I charged again, jumped as high as I could with spurs slashing. I flapped my wings with all the strength I had. I felt my spurs meet flesh. Felt the warm splatter of blood on my toes. The man was screaming. I was screeching. Then another voice filled the air. A loud bellow that nearly deafened me.

It was the Food Lady. She was on the porch with a long shiny stick pointed at the stranger. The scraggly man froze with hands in the air. I flogged him again and he ran down the gravel driveway, his bloodied legs pumping hard. I flogged him several more times to let him know he was not welcome here.

Once he was gone, I made my way back to the yard where the Food Lady waited.

"Well," she said. "Real Deal Steele, you showed him. You earned a special treat. Come on."

Hearing the word, 'treat' caught my attention and I followed her, cackling to my girls.
True to her name, the Food Lady presented me with kibble. I was ecstatic and called to my girls as the Food Lady tossed several handfuls to me. I tidbitted to my right. I tidbitted to my left, and my girls surrounded me. Big Sister bumped into me and I did a wing dance for her. She danced back and all the girls joined her.

Ah, life is good. I crowed my joy to the world.

 

[Bridger Davis]

We
This needs to win @sumi, I don’t care that we’re competing, this is the most amazing heartwarming, best story EVER! Like this if you agree.

Don't forget that 5 people can win!

 

[Ms Biddy]

We have a local rodeo with amusing contests that anyone can enter. There's mutton busting, if you know what that is, and a barnyard scramble where kids and various animals are released together and whatever they can catch is theirs to take home. Chaos always ensues. One year there was a chicken flying contest so we grabbed a couple of hens and decided to join in. We try not to name individuals in the flock but exceptions had to be made for these two athletes and we had great fun brainstorming before settling on Bouncing Betty and Amelia Egghart.

The set up is that you take your chicken to the top of a short ladder in the arena, let her go and wherever she lands the distance is marked. Many fine flights occurred that day. Bouncing Betty lived up to her name, only making it 15 feet before landing in the sand. All our hopes were pinned on Amelia Egghart for the win.

Adult beverages had been flowing and there was exuberance in the air. Amelia felt it too and had a bright twinkle in her eye. We knew she was ready. We took her to the top, pointed out the way and gently propelled her toward victory.

Victory was on her mind as well. A lightweight hen with strong wings, she easily passed Bouncing Betty's marker and was headed toward the front of the pack. Sly as she was, she waited until the last second to pull up short and make her u-turn in mid air. Heading straight for the crowd, she flew back past the ladder scattering some bystanders while others quickly sprang to action. Amelia hit the ground running and instigated her own barnyard scramble with both children and adults chasing after her as she dodged boots, slipped through a fence panel and headed for the parking lot. She ran under trucks and in between cars until she finally made a wrong turn and got cornered against the arena wall. She was detained without further incident and for her cunning and daring she even won a prize.

The chicken with the farthest flight won a ribbon that day, but it didn't go to us. We were given a stump with a hatchet! 

Please don't worry friends, neither Bouncing Betty or Amelia Egghart were injured during or after this escapade. The stump and hatchet were used for building winter fires, and our athletic hens lived long peaceful lives. Chicken flying is no longer a contest at the rodeo. Maybe Amelia Egghart had something to do with that.

 

[PeepersMama]

Most people are used to letting their dogs or cats in the back door. Sometimes letting them up on the couch to sit in the family's laps on movie night.
Well, my family is weird.
Yes, over the years we've had both dogs and cats on the couch, but there's no denying that Tiger was the most unlikely critter to come in the house.
Tiger was an Easter egger. She was part of the second flock of chickens we got, and from her chick days she was always asking to be held. If you opened the brooder lid, she was on her tiptoes, jumping around by the wall so we'd see her and pick her up. Then when she moved outside with the rest of her gang, she'd follow me around, pecking my boots and calves till I sat down and let her on my lap. There was nothing more that chicken wanted than a hug. She was a friend to every human that walked into the coop.

A couple times, me and my sidekick (aka my little brother) decided to bring her in the house. At the time we had one of those screens that would magnet itself shut after you walked through.
Tiger caught on quick.
Every day, during the afternoon, we'd hear Tiger pecking the glass door through the screen, asking us to open it so she could slip in. If we left the door open, she'd gladly let herself in.

After a few days of her coming inside and exploring the staircase, trying to get upstairs where all the action was, we showed her the couch.
She loved the couch.
She loved the couch so much, that she would make little nests in between the cushions and pillows, which all my siblings thought was awesome. Mom..
Not so much.
One day, Tiger snuck in and somehow got onto the couch without us hearing her claws on the floor. She started cackling, and I walked into the family room to a very unamused mother, a blue-orange chicken cackling on the corner of the armrest, and a perfect little greenish blue egg in her little hole in the blankets.
"Get that chicken out of my house. Right now," Mom ordered, in that über calm tone that suggested she was not at all calm.
So we put Tiger out (through the screen) and she ran off to take a dust bath
Next day we caught her before Mom did, so we... Assisted her in making her nest, using a baby blanket and a strategically placed pillow to shield her from Mom's view, just in case she walked in.
Sadly for us, Mom caught Tiger almost every time and put her back outside, which the silly bird did not at all appreciate. She'd get quite flustered, pacing in front of the door until someone walked out - and she slipped back in.

That winter, she broke the habit of laying eggs on the couch and resumed laying in the nestboxes. Much to her chagrine, I imagine. She never once lost her adorable temperament.

The next fall, I got two very expensive chickens for my birthday. A lavender cuckoo English orpington, and a Bielefelder. I named them Sugar Plum and Beth, and I adored them both.
After two weeks of very sloppy quarantine, we let them out with the rest of the flock. Around that time, Sugar started coughing. And she coughed LOUD. That went on for two weeks, and then one day she went downhill. I partially blame myself for leave ng the windows on the coop open all the way, and it was cold that night. She spent the day in the house with me, and then she died the next morning.

Then everyone else got sick... Tiger included.

Sneezing, runny noses, and several of them started slowly loosing their balance. We misdiagnosed it as Marek's disease, and culled the 19 chickens who showed any sign of sickness. Tiger was one of the few who had it bad. She was sluggish, runny nose, and combined with molting, she looked terrible.

But she would never once refuse to be held. Not till the day she died.
Even now, two years after her death, Mom still remembers the chicken who would break into her house and sit on her couch. All of us do. Her memory is just one of the cherished stories of the chickens who died that day, and none of them will ever (EVER) be forgotten.


Here is Tiger as a chick.

 

[3riverschick]

I vote ( ,if we are allowed to) for
RonP 's fox story! Wow!
Karen

 

[Chickadee McGee]

This past March my 9year old decided she wanted baby chicks during a trip to our local Big R. My daughter was now faced with the decision. I informed her we’d have to turn her playhouse into a hen house. Without hesitation the decision was made to turn it into a hen house. So she chose ten baby chicks. After a few days in there brooder I caught chicken fever. So back to Big R to purchase a few more chicks. My wife wasn’t thrilled but she to fell in love. The first few months were great. We came to find out our mixed flock consisted of Easter Eggers,Australorps,White Leghorns,Rhode Island Reds,Buff Orpingtons and Barred Rocks. During the day they would run free with my 13 yr old pit bull Bruiser and at night they would safely return to there house. As I walked into my house one day after visiting with the chickens I eventually realized the chickens were unsupervised as my dog Bruiser was inside with me. I had been home half an hour when I had this bad feeling. I raced out my back door to check on the chickens. As I open the door a fox turns and looks at me with one of my barred rock hens in its mouth. Without thinking I take off running toward this fox using expletives. It trots off into waste high corn and disappears. I decided I’m going in after this stupid thing(like I’m really going to chase down a fox)! Well it was a good thing I did. Ten rows in I found the Barred Rock. I must of startled it because laying limp on the ground,there she was! I pick her up and went to access the situation. Of the 16 hens the fox had grabbed 7 other hens before I saw it. I had to go break the sad news to my wife and daughter. We were pretty distraught and now had to decide to do with this hen that was not doing good! One of us was going to put the hen out of its misery. Neither my wife or I could do it so we decided to set it up in a dog kennel in our basement with food and water. If she made it through the night great. If not,we didn’t have to be the ones to do it. This resilient bird made it through the night. So we start calling vets around the area. No vets around willing to look at a chicken. The only place within an hour drive that would see a chicken was a university hospital. Let’s just say wayyyyyy to expensive. So my wife an occupational therapist makes a suspended sling to keep the hen off of her broken leg,hip. We weren’t quite sure of exact injury. So as time wore on with some antibiotics and peroxide to clean wound Rocky was making a recovery. Rocky was the name we decided to give her for being so tough. Two weeks after being in the sling Rocky was starting to walk albeit with a limp! We now had to reintroduce her back to the flock. She was so miserable in that catch and so happy to be back with her flock. The problem was the rest of the flock was getting bigger and Rocky wasn’t! We think her growth was stunted while she was healing. Now all the other hens picked on her. Always the last eat and drink. The last one to have her comb come in. The only one that can’t roost high like the others. She sleeps in a low nesting box. But if you ask me she always looks most comfortable. Fast forward to August were we decided to replace the hens that got taken by the fox. We ordered through mail this time. After four weeks we integrated our new chicks to our hens. Most happy of all to see these new hens was Rocky. For the first time she had somebody smaller to pick on. She terrorizes the new batch anytime they’re doing something she doesn’t approve of. With her limp she has a hard time catching them but when she does. As time has went by Rocky is now one of our best egg layers. The younger flock of chicks have accepted Rocky into there flock. She used to be by herself a lot unable to keep up with the older hens. She now happily spends her days scratching and pecking with the younger flock under the protection of our pine trees!!

 

[sumi]

Here are our winners! Congratulations to:

@RonP

Several have asked about my avatar, so here I will share a story about how a close encounter with an adversary, changed an enduring battle against Mother Nature and her combatants.

We all know keeping a backyard flock alive is a primary objective. Food, water, and shelter, is the mantra. Food and water, straightforward, lots of information available, do a quick search, fill in your blanks. You will know what will work for your flock.

Shelter, well here we have many options. You must design a shelter to protect your flock from the elements, INCLUDING PREDATORS.

Indoor shelters, proper ventilation, size, manure management, predator proof, uncomplicated.

Outdoor shelters, an entirely diverse situation.

45 years ago, I built my first outdoor run using chicken wire. I was in high school and knew everything about everything. I hatched out 21 birds! I built a box and an outdoor run. Everyone knew chicken wire was the right material to use… I continuously lost birds due to neighborhood dogs, raccoons, opossums, fox, and I have no idea what else… My air rifle was by my side, I was determined to eliminate anything that disturbed the sanctity of my flock. There were many casualties on both sides …until I had no chickens remaining, and admitted defeat.

Fast forward about 15 years, I moved into a new to me "country home" when my oldest was just shy of 6. A good friend decided that every 6 year old needs a pet, and a great learning experience would be hatching and raising chickens. So he shows up on my 6 year olds birthday, with an incubator and 2 dozen eggs. She diligently turns each egg carefully twice a day for the required time period. I candle the eggs at the appropriate time interval, to see if indeed they are fertile.

I see nothing!!!

In a panic, I order 2 dozen chicks from a hatchery to arrive the day before the chicks are due to hatch.

I have a plan...

I place the chicks in the incubator with the unhatched eggs for warmth that evening.

My daughter wakes me up the next morning screaming with excitement!

She wants an explanation as to how we hatched 40 chicks from just 24 eggs!!

I now have 40 chicks, housed in a spare bedroom. I needed to build an outdoor coop and run, fast…

I purchase a prefab plastic shed and a chain link dog run. All set… Little did I know I was once again setting myself up for failure… I will not get into the details, but you can probably fill in the gory and the consequent battles against the natural predators.

Casualties on both sides, until no chickens remained… I was defeated once again.

About 13 years ago my son remembering the chickens from the previous home, decides chickens should be a part of our family once again.

We had an old shed already on property, just needed some repairs…

Okay, we will do this together. I design the repairs, he will do the labor, supervised. We agree.

We rebuild the shed, fairly simple, now what about the run? I know chicken wire is useless and I know chain link fencing will not stop prying little hands or tunneling varmints. I settle on inexpensive 2x3 fencing, and surround the run on all sides, top, and 2-foot skirt. Satisfied on security, we add birds.

The onslaught of attacks were brutal. Every predator within miles must have seen this structure as an invitation for an easy meal. My defenses held them back, until… My little bantam rooster, barely larger than a Jersey mosquito, but with the heart of a lion, attacked a raccoon trying to gain entry through the fence.

I was devastated… I started a trapping campaign determined to eliminate all who dared enter my zone.

This continued for several years. One of my greatest battles against nature, until this one morning I found a fox kit in one of my traps. While relocation of predators was not my routine, I just could not bear to eliminate this future enemy. Too cute with adoring eyes…

View attachment 1200722

Just a baby. I held him captive till I reinforced my run making him no longer a threat nor my enemy.

He ended my war.

He inspired me to create the strongest defense imaginable. Half inch hardware cloth supported by 2x6 lumber… A 200 pound dog would not breach this run.

It took about 2 weeks for my reinforcements to be completed, all while my captive enjoyed free meals and medical attention, he had fleas, tics, and worms.

He was released with a clean bill of health, and a belly full of my dogs food, lamb, not chicken! He returned often, as he became good friends with my dog. He was absolutely a beautiful animal. If I had a proper setup I would have kept him longer. I was too afraid he would lose all his wild instincts and it wouldn't have been just. As it was, he was not afraid of me holding him. Kept him for 3 weeks total and was sad to let him free, but the run was secured.

Because of him, I have a run as secure as my coop.

Many fault predators for being what they are. Wild animals following instinct for survival. I made him very comfortable while he was in my care. I did not want him to lose his instincts for survival, and was very happy to see him weeks later still playing with my dog, trying but not eating his food or my chickens.

View attachment 1200721

This little creature taught me a life lesson about compassion. About how a strong defense is often your best offence, especially when dealing with a battle you will never win. Moreover, about sleeping with both eyes closed, and knowing I did beyond to protect my flock.

Almost every day, with his picture, I am reminded and somewhat remorseful for my wasted time and life. For this I will be forever in his debt, and he will remain my avatar indefinitely.

@SueT

This is based on real events involving my RIR Rosy. I put it together as a story for my granddaughter. Rosy died this past year. (She will be remembered as a bossy tyrant...lol.)

View attachment 1202004
Okay, maybe the events were slightly more haphazard than the story indicates, but there really was a volunteer tomato plant in the run, as you see in the pics, and Rosy really did get the first tomato. (She got the first of everything....)

@theoldchick

As usual my day was perfect. I had a beautiful flock of young gals who thought I was the King of The World. I eyed Big Sister and her full bustle and did a fancy wing dance toward her. She raised her head and glared at me so I turned about to search for food. Food always won over Big Sister. I knew a good spot and as I strutted my way across the yard, I noticed a human at the back of the Food Lady's house. I never seen this human before so I paused and did a wattle wave to let the girls know how handsome I was. April was impressed but Big Sister has also seen the strange man at the back of the house.

"Who is that?" she asked me.

"I don't know," I admitted and flapped my wings. "All right girls. I'm going to see who this human is. He might have food. I'll let you know."

Big Sister adjusted her bustle which distracted me but she gave me a peck on my left wattle to remind me of my duty. At first I remained near the trees, glancing at the sky for Mrs. Hawk. Dooley, the Blue Jay hopped on a nearby branch.

"What's up, Steele?" he wanted to know.

"I'm watching that man," I told him. "I've never seen him before."

Dooley swayed with the branch as a breeze pushed from the North. "He's acting strange. Look how his eyes are darting about. He's up to something. He might be a chicken thief."

I flared my wattles in alarm. "Well, I better check him out. Let me know if Mrs. Hawk shows up."

One eye on the man and one eye on the sky, I scouted my way across the yard. The grass had just been cut and there were scads of dead bugs to entice Big Sister with but I had to find out who the stranger was. Dooley was right. This stranger was looking in the window then looking over his back way to often. Most strangers simply went to the door, knocked, and the Food Lady came out.

I cackled a question at the man. He ignored me so I cackled louder. This time he turned around from peering in the window and looked at me. I looked at him, waiting for his move. Did he have food? Was he lost?

Incredibly, he stomped his foot and kicked at me. No, no, no, he did not. He was a stranger and he was a rude one. Nobody kicks at me like that. I raised my hackle feathers at him in warning. Shockingly, the man charged and shouted his challenge. I charged and jumped high with spurs ready. The man dodged and swung at me. His fist connected with my chest and the ground slammed into my back.

Now I was thoroughly enraged as my Dino ancestors came alive within me. I charged again, jumped as high as I could with spurs slashing. I flapped my wings with all the strength I had. I felt my spurs meet flesh. Felt the warm splatter of blood on my toes. The man was screaming. I was screeching. Then another voice filled the air. A loud bellow that nearly deafened me.

It was the Food Lady. She was on the porch with a long shiny stick pointed at the stranger. The scraggly man froze with hands in the air. I flogged him again and he ran down the gravel driveway, his bloodied legs pumping hard. I flogged him several more times to let him know he was not welcome here.

Once he was gone, I made my way back to the yard where the Food Lady waited.

"Well," she said. "Real Deal Steele, you showed him. You earned a special treat. Come on."

Hearing the word, 'treat' caught my attention and I followed her, cackling to my girls.
True to her name, the Food Lady presented me with kibble. I was ecstatic and called to my girls as the Food Lady tossed several handfuls to me. I tidbitted to my right. I tidbitted to my left, and my girls surrounded me. Big Sister bumped into me and I did a wing dance for her. She danced back and all the girls joined her.

Ah, life is good. I crowed my joy to the world.

@Ms Biddy

We have a local rodeo with amusing contests that anyone can enter. There's mutton busting, if you know what that is, and a barnyard scramble where kids and various animals are released together and whatever they can catch is theirs to take home. Chaos always ensues. One year there was a chicken flying contest so we grabbed a couple of hens and decided to join in. We try not to name individuals in the flock but exceptions had to be made for these two athletes and we had great fun brainstorming before settling on Bouncing Betty and Amelia Egghart.

The set up is that you take your chicken to the top of a short ladder in the arena, let her go and wherever she lands the distance is marked. Many fine flights occurred that day. Bouncing Betty lived up to her name, only making it 15 feet before landing in the sand. All our hopes were pinned on Amelia Egghart for the win.

Adult beverages had been flowing and there was exuberance in the air. Amelia felt it too and had a bright twinkle in her eye. We knew she was ready. We took her to the top, pointed out the way and gently propelled her toward victory.

Victory was on her mind as well. A lightweight hen with strong wings, she easily passed Bouncing Betty's marker and was headed toward the front of the pack. Sly as she was, she waited until the last second to pull up short and make her u-turn in mid air. Heading straight for the crowd, she flew back past the ladder scattering some bystanders while others quickly sprang to action. Amelia hit the ground running and instigated her own barnyard scramble with both children and adults chasing after her as she dodged boots, slipped through a fence panel and headed for the parking lot. She ran under trucks and in between cars until she finally made a wrong turn and got cornered against the arena wall. She was detained without further incident and for her cunning and daring she even won a prize.

View attachment 1204073

The chicken with the farthest flight won a ribbon that day, but it didn't go to us. We were given a stump with a hatchet! 

Please don't worry friends, neither Bouncing Betty or Amelia Egghart were injured during or after this escapade. The stump and hatchet were used for building winter fires, and our athletic hens lived long peaceful lives. Chicken flying is no longer a contest at the rodeo. Maybe Amelia Egghart had something to do with that.

@PeepersMama

Most people are used to letting their dogs or cats in the back door. Sometimes letting them up on the couch to sit in the family's laps on movie night.
Well, my family is weird.
Yes, over the years we've had both dogs and cats on the couch, but there's no denying that Tiger was the most unlikely critter to come in the house.
Tiger was an Easter egger. She was part of the second flock of chickens we got, and from her chick days she was always asking to be held. If you opened the brooder lid, she was on her tiptoes, jumping around by the wall so we'd see her and pick her up. Then when she moved outside with the rest of her gang, she'd follow me around, pecking my boots and calves till I sat down and let her on my lap. There was nothing more that chicken wanted than a hug. She was a friend to every human that walked into the coop.

A couple times, me and my sidekick (aka my little brother) decided to bring her in the house. At the time we had one of those screens that would magnet itself shut after you walked through.
Tiger caught on quick.
Every day, during the afternoon, we'd hear Tiger pecking the glass door through the screen, asking us to open it so she could slip in. If we left the door open, she'd gladly let herself in.

After a few days of her coming inside and exploring the staircase, trying to get upstairs where all the action was, we showed her the couch.
She loved the couch.
She loved the couch so much, that she would make little nests in between the cushions and pillows, which all my siblings thought was awesome. Mom..
Not so much.
One day, Tiger snuck in and somehow got onto the couch without us hearing her claws on the floor. She started cackling, and I walked into the family room to a very unamused mother, a blue-orange chicken cackling on the corner of the armrest, and a perfect little greenish blue egg in her little hole in the blankets.
"Get that chicken out of my house. Right now," Mom ordered, in that über calm tone that suggested she was not at all calm.
So we put Tiger out (through the screen) and she ran off to take a dust bath
Next day we caught her before Mom did, so we... Assisted her in making her nest, using a baby blanket and a strategically placed pillow to shield her from Mom's view, just in case she walked in.
Sadly for us, Mom caught Tiger almost every time and put her back outside, which the silly bird did not at all appreciate. She'd get quite flustered, pacing in front of the door until someone walked out - and she slipped back in.

That winter, she broke the habit of laying eggs on the couch and resumed laying in the nestboxes. Much to her chagrine, I imagine. She never once lost her adorable temperament.

The next fall, I got two very expensive chickens for my birthday. A lavender cuckoo English orpington, and a Bielefelder. I named them Sugar Plum and Beth, and I adored them both.
After two weeks of very sloppy quarantine, we let them out with the rest of the flock. Around that time, Sugar started coughing. And she coughed LOUD. That went on for two weeks, and then one day she went downhill. I partially blame myself for leave ng the windows on the coop open all the way, and it was cold that night. She spent the day in the house with me, and then she died the next morning.

Then everyone else got sick... Tiger included.

Sneezing, runny noses, and several of them started slowly loosing their balance. We misdiagnosed it as Marek's disease, and culled the 19 chickens who showed any sign of sickness. Tiger was one of the few who had it bad. She was sluggish, runny nose, and combined with molting, she looked terrible.

But she would never once refuse to be held. Not till the day she died.
Even now, two years after her death, Mom still remembers the chicken who would break into her house and sit on her couch. All of us do. Her memory is just one of the cherished stories of the chickens who died that day, and none of them will ever (EVER) be forgotten.

View attachment 1205373
Here is Tiger as a chick.

 

[Bridger Davis]

Here are our winners! Congratulations to:

@RonP


@SueT


@theoldchick


@Ms Biddy


@PeepersMama

Congrats to the winners!

 

[theoldchick]

Congratulations everyone!

 

[ThenNotSoChickenMaster]

Congrats to the winners, all the stories were really interesting to read.