Day 1

I met Todd this morning in the parking lot of the Small Animal Hospital. I watched him walk in with two dogs and come back out with one. I guess the other was there for moral support. I asked about the dog undergoing chemo. She is doing very well. She is in remission and has a great outlook on life. He was very thankful to the staff at UT Vet Hospital. Sang their praises.

That said - have you ever seen a person carry a chicken? Todd grabs one leg of the bird so that the other leg and wings are moving frantically, practically flying in a circle about the restrained leg. I saw some people at the fair take this approach. I broke out in a nervous sweat thinking about it. Then, another customer, Julie carefully wraps her hands around a bird as if she is giving it a hug with her hands. The bird is calm, doesn't resist a bit. This is the approach I took removing them from the cardboard box. No sweat. No really, I wasn't nervous. I just did it and I didn't panic.

 This is the first picture of the chickens in the new place. One of the Queens, I am not sure which one, is especially adventurous. She hopped right on out of the coop and began exploring. I have a feeling that she is the same one I found on the outside of the fence when I finally got home from work.

This is an embarrassing picture but I have to show it. Do you see the rotten plywood leaning up against the coop? (there are a couple different pieces, take your pick.) Those weren't in place this morning. They weren't in place this evening until I tried to catch the Queen of Adventure and put her back in the fence. Thankfully, being chased by a giant, overprotective, first-time chicken farmer, she ran back in on her own.

Aaron and I were outsmarted by a chicken. We put up a fence and reinforced the bottom of the fence to the ground with landscaping staples. Yet, we left the underneath of the coop wide open.

{Alternate post title: Mother Clucker}

In this picture I can tell them all apart - kind of. This evening, chasing them in the rain, trying to convince them that they should go inside the coop - they all looked pretty much the same with all of the running and flapping. (Aaron enjoyed this part telling me "Yeah... and they are chickens..." Meaning: They are animals and it is just rain.) With all of the coaxing they eventually made their way into the coop and I think they said "Huh. Its not raining in here. How nice."

After dinner I was alarmed by a peculiar noise. I grabbed a flashlight and my rain coat and headed up to the coop.  A little panic set in when I didn't see them outside. I opened the door slowly and found all three of them sleeping close to each other. A sigh of relief and then "Plunk." I tip toed through the coop out into the yard and stood the rotten plywood up - again.

{Aaron suggested another alternate title: Chicken Paranoia.}


So, a few lessons learned today and some more for that "Things to do" list.