Friday, February 27, 2009

Chicken Menace

Since I had a dentist appointment yesterday, I dressed up a little - wearing nicer jeans, nicer shirt, and my good sandals. It was the sandals that were most impressive – I am tennis-shoe kind of girl. I’m sure I impressed the art girls who normally see me in my grubby jeans and a T-shirt. Actually, that is my normal attire any day of the week. The chickens were not so impressed when I went out to feed them wearing my fancy pants and shoes. As I was walking around their pen, I wondered at my choice of footwear, but I kept going. As I was hauling water to those thirsty chickens, who had been squawking at me to hurry with their water, I stepped on uneven ground and rolled my ankle. I went down, throwing the chicken water bucket and bending the rim. My first thought was, "Dang! Toby is going to be mad that I bent his chicken water bucket." Then my second thought was, "I hate those dang chickens."

Last week when I was feeding the chickens, there was a dead meadowlark in the pen with the chickens. I don’t know how it got in the chicken condo, but those chickens are deadly. They are territorial and vicious. Years ago, we were stacking small bales of hay in the barn. Toby picked up a bale and a little mouse went running across the next bale. Without thinking, Jesse, who was wearing gloves, snatched up the mouse. It was an amazing catch. She had that look on her face that said, "Wow, I can’t believe I caught the mouse!" The second look on her face was, "And why did I catch it?" She took it over to her chicken pen and dropped it in. The chickens went crazy chasing it. The mouse did get away, but I’m telling you that chickens are mean.

My first experience with chickens was years ago when Bo was a toddler. We had moved to a little farm north of Vernon, TX. My dad bought us 40 odd assortment of chickens, rooster, and guineas. At first it was kind of cool. Then it was a mess. They tore up the backyard leaving it looking like a war zone. They crowed at all hours of the night and day. They had fleas. They attracted varmints like skunks, snakes, and possums. Then they started having chicks and got really mean. Bo was afraid to go into the back yard after having a mother hen chase him and peck his diaper (little fluff was coming out of his diaper as he ran). Bo soon learned to take a handful of rocks to throw at the guineas so that they would go on and quit squawking. I can look back on it now and think that it was not so bad, but still, chickens are not my favorite. And goats are worse. As my neighbor says, "A man can’t walk the Christian walk and own a goat." But that is another story.

9 comments:

Buck said...

I hear ya about the chickens and I MOST certainly agree. TSMP and I "inherited" about a dozen or so when we bought our property in OKC. They lasted about two months... becoming coyote food, one by one. I wasn't sad at all to see 'em go. Nasty lil critters, they are... but TASTY! ;-)

Jess has quick hands!

joyce said...

But your ankle---how is your ankle? Did you put ice on it? Did it ruin your sandals?

And I hope you stay warm this weekend.

Becky said...

My poor dentist usually sees me in my filthy, greasy work clothes. I apologize for my appearance every time, but the nurse says, "Oh, you look fine. We have people that come in here that look much worse!"

My uncle has goats. He loves them. Except that he lost a lot of them when Ike hit. He still has a few, though. I've got a goat story, a couple of them in fact. I should post them.

Bag Blog said...

Joyce, the ankle was sore last night, but better today. Toby says he married me for my stout legs and our boys would be able to play football.

Becky, I can see how most people make their dentist appointments around their work schedules.

We will have to post our goat stories.

Buck, As long as I don't have to kill and pluck the chickens, I like to eat them.

Jo Castillo said...

Hope the ankle is OK. Now you know why I don't eat chicken! (Unless it is offered at someone's house and no alternative. Ha.) I was chicken caretaker when I was a kid, many, many years ago.

Jenny said...

Hope the ankle and bucket are both ok. Not sure if I want to raise some chickens or not. I don't like mean animals. LOL!

Bob said...

Married you for your stout legs? Ranchers -- always looking for breeding stock.

Buckskins Rule said...

Didn't realize that chickens were so mean...guess I'll scratch them off the list of potential animals for my future ranch.

Not to mention I'd probably shoot a rooster the first time it wakes me up on a weekend.

Bag Blog said...

Bob, in a husband I prefer the "Jersey" look - all belly and no butt.

Buckskin, You should scratch off sheep (just looking for a place to die) and goats (can climb most anything including your mother-in-laws Caddilac) to0.