A few weeks ago one of our new chickens went clucky. First she sat on the nest and got a bit insulted when we took eggs from under her. Then she got short tempered. Then she got cranky and pecked if you reached for the nest.
So we took the 3 eggs she was sitting on and put her and the eggs in Alcatraz. That’s the original dog run on the property that we’ve mainly used as a chicken/duck pen/hospital/nursery.
The chicken sat on those eggs for so long, never coming out of the nest even to eat, that every few days Wayne or I would go in and poke her to make sure she was still alive.
As you can imagine, she really enjoyed that. Small bruises on our arms will attest to that.
Eventually I walked past one day and saw something I never wanted to see… a baby chicken floating in the water bowl.
They’d hatched and one fell straight into the water. Sigh. Poor little thing.
I blame both of us for that. We (he) should have known better than to put a deep water bowl in there with the hen. Didn’t we (he) learn after all those times we (I) fished Herman Too out of that very same bowl when he was dead set determined to kill himself?
Ok. He may have put the bowl in there, but I saw it and didn’t remove it. So, we’re both to blame.
Three hatched. Two alive. At least we have two live ones.
They’re so cute, and she’s such a good mommy. If you go in there she’ll chase you away, wings out, tail up and pointy beak.
Meanwhile the other three chickens decided they wouldn’t be shown up so they went clucky as well. Only problem is we’d been taking the eggs so they’re sitting on empty nests, threatening us with the business end of their beak for nothing.
Well, except one, which is sitting on a ceramic egg. She plans to hatch a chicken figurine.
The horses are all well. Cass is still locked in the stable, poor girlie. She’s being spoiled and pampered, being fed the good stuff twice a day while we wait till its safe to let her out. Its looking like that might be this weekend. The wound is healing well, only four stitches pulled out so its held together. We’ve been cleaning it every day and spraying it with disinfectant twice a day.
She’s ready to get out. She’s bored.
The others are jealous. They don’t understand why she’s being fed while they have to fend for themselves. Life ain’t fair, is it?
|Chipmunk shows off his manly physique.|
All in all, Dancer and Chipmunk are taking it well but Wally is cranky.
I stay out of his way.
Oh, and we’ve had another animal adventure. Sheep this time.
I think our place has become known locally as the best animal resort in the area.
We keep getting visitors. First there were a couple of pigs, the native hen family, plovers, then the turkeys who visit on a regular basis for a few days at a time, and now we have sheep.
|Dancer keeps a wary eye on the new guests.|
The horses were a bit put out by the new visitors. How did they get in? The whole place is fenced obviously. The sheep are part gazelle and part greyhound. I saw them run and leap!
|Wally doesn’t mind as long as he gets all the treats.|
Other than that, I’ve been doing the odd bit here and there but nothing interesting. Hopefully I’ll finish a project or two this weekend to share. Stay tuned.
One thing that I’m pretty sure about now is that I DID fracture my rib. Its been weeks and its still sore.
Mind you, falling on my butt last weekend didn’t help.
No, it wasn’t my fault this time. It was Barney’s.
Let me explain…
Barney was getting in the way of a car which was trying to park in the driveway. I called him over and squatted down to pat and hold him till it was safe.
Its hard enough to balance on your toes in a squatting position at the best of times if the ground is slightly uneven… but there I was trying to balance my center of gravity between my boobs and my butt when Barney decided to lean in.
There was no saving me then. All my weight shifted to my derrier and I went splat.
Only from a much shorter height this time. And I didn’t land on my sore side.
However, the jolt was enough. Ugh.
Eh. Life goes on.