Every time I hear someone say that chickens are stupid, I think about one of my past chooks, Zelda, and how clever she was in successfully hoarding roast potatoes.
Here is a photo of the culprit:
It was a Monday morning. Leftovers of the prior Sunday roast sitting in the bottom of the kitchen scraps bin. I ensured I cooked extra because I knew roast potatoes were one of my girl's favorite treats.
I hastily take out the scraps, throwing them down onto the dry hay and watching my girls delightedly scoffing down a mix of corn, carrots, potatoes, grains and bread.
I begin to notice that one of my chooks, Zelda, is acting quite suspicious, and I watch her intently. She picks up a piece of roast potato, takes it to a secluded corner of the coop, covers it with hay, before returning back to the pile of food - only to pick up another piece of potato, return to the corner, uncover the previous potato, place the second piece next to it, cover the two chunks of roast potato, and return to the food pile once again.
She does this again, and again, and again, until she has 10 or so chunks of roast potato hidden. On her last trip to the corner, she uncovers her little collection of potato for the last time, sits down in front of it, spreads her wings to prevent any of the other girls from catching sight of her little scheme, and enjoys the little feast of roast potato she gathered for herself.
She certainly did love her food.
Unfortunately Zelda is no longer with us, after passing away from old age. However, I'll always have these little stories to remember her by.
Here is a photo of the culprit:
It was a Monday morning. Leftovers of the prior Sunday roast sitting in the bottom of the kitchen scraps bin. I ensured I cooked extra because I knew roast potatoes were one of my girl's favorite treats.
I hastily take out the scraps, throwing them down onto the dry hay and watching my girls delightedly scoffing down a mix of corn, carrots, potatoes, grains and bread.
I begin to notice that one of my chooks, Zelda, is acting quite suspicious, and I watch her intently. She picks up a piece of roast potato, takes it to a secluded corner of the coop, covers it with hay, before returning back to the pile of food - only to pick up another piece of potato, return to the corner, uncover the previous potato, place the second piece next to it, cover the two chunks of roast potato, and return to the food pile once again.
She does this again, and again, and again, until she has 10 or so chunks of roast potato hidden. On her last trip to the corner, she uncovers her little collection of potato for the last time, sits down in front of it, spreads her wings to prevent any of the other girls from catching sight of her little scheme, and enjoys the little feast of roast potato she gathered for herself.
She certainly did love her food.
Unfortunately Zelda is no longer with us, after passing away from old age. However, I'll always have these little stories to remember her by.
