I went up to check on the condition of the hoop house yesterday afternoon, and was followed by four of the hens, who think I am the Great Giver of Food, for some reason. Usually, they give up halfway there and go their own way, but this time, they followed me right in, and I swear their eyes got huge and they they ran down the aisle and jumped for joy in the dirt, rolling and scratching, and flinging dirt on each other and clucking like crazy. Their favorite spots were right under my chair, the table, and between my feet and the last fig tree. One of the four thought this was low class behavior and preferred the "improved" dirt in my actual garden. I covered the areas where I have garlic planted, and put the cloches over the spinach and cabbage, and let them peck and eat everything else in sight.
I went out and picked up Lucky and brought him in, figuring he'd appreciate time away from Drunken Chicken. He was so excited he couldn't stop crowing, which eventually brought in Drunken Chicken... and all of a sudden the relaxed, happy atmosphere was gone. He walked down one side and Lucky and three of the four of the six hens inside at that point all took off down the other side away from him. So the truth is out. Even the hens don't like the big bully. He's headed for the stewpot. When the Princess hollered to let me know it was time to take her to TaeKwonDo, I had to chase them all out. The boys objected, but went eventually. If the weather is not too nasty, I'll work in there this weekend, and take a hen to help me.
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