Monday, June 29, 2009
O Sad Chicken, You Make Me Laugh and Cry
I would be sad too if I had eyes that worked but yet I still couldn't see. Life looks as though it weighs heavily on your poultry shoulders. But don't worry, sad chicken. We won't let you starve. The dogs don't seem to want to eat you. And we won't let Vivi create a gang to braid your hairfeathers into oblivion. Cheer up, chicken!
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Ivy is an Artist at Heart
Ivy likes paint. Especially the Benjamin Moore zero VOC, which is better than others I guess. But doesn't she look pretty in lavender? She also likes my Golden Heavy Body Acrylic tubes, so I have to keep those under lock and key.
Other non-comestibles Ivy has been observed to eat within the past two weeks include but are not limited to:
- fence post;
- obscenely copious amounts of grass;
- styrofoam insulation;
- pine floor studs;
- wallboard;
- granite;
- foyer rug;
- pine shavings;
- chicken feathers. Hilarious doggie sneezing ensued.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Well Apparently Not
It does not seem that the chickens are going to be Things Great Danes Eat.
As you can see, Charley is not a huge threat to our new poultry friends. Judging from this photo, I think the predominant thought that runs through Charley's head at any given time is "What exactly are you going to throw at me today and how am I best going to circumnavigate it?" Or in the alternative, "You have got to be freaking kidding me."
Ivy wants to lick the chickens. One of them got a little wet because of her, and let me tell you, the phrase "mad as a wet hen" was not first uttered for no reason.
Milo wants to poke the chickens with his giant nose. That seems to be his thing. Poking smaller animals. And nobody wants to be poked. So that may be a problem, but at least it's our biggest problem.
This is Vivi. Every time I stick my hand in the home she jumps on it. I think she thinks it is an elevator. Which is actually pretty accurate. Lately Vivi has been running at my hand and pecking at it rather violently before she jumps on. Routine elevator safety precautions I guess.
As you can see, Charley is not a huge threat to our new poultry friends. Judging from this photo, I think the predominant thought that runs through Charley's head at any given time is "What exactly are you going to throw at me today and how am I best going to circumnavigate it?" Or in the alternative, "You have got to be freaking kidding me."
Ivy wants to lick the chickens. One of them got a little wet because of her, and let me tell you, the phrase "mad as a wet hen" was not first uttered for no reason.
Milo wants to poke the chickens with his giant nose. That seems to be his thing. Poking smaller animals. And nobody wants to be poked. So that may be a problem, but at least it's our biggest problem.
This is Vivi. Every time I stick my hand in the home she jumps on it. I think she thinks it is an elevator. Which is actually pretty accurate. Lately Vivi has been running at my hand and pecking at it rather violently before she jumps on. Routine elevator safety precautions I guess.
Friday, June 12, 2009
Now We Are Twelve
The chickens all arrived safely on Wednesday -- all 8 little girls were healthy and seemingly happy. One little girl, quickly named Calliope because of the incredible amount of noise she makes, has a little eye infection, but the vet gave us some antibiotic ointment that seems to be helping.
Mavis, named after my grandma (who happily said "O, that would be great!" when I asked her if she was okay with having fowl named for her) and Vivian are the two Barred Rocks. They are very spunky and a little unpredictable.
The two easter eggers are very friendly and like to be held. Friend Lia named the brown one Coco and friend Judy named the other Dusty, after Dusty Springfield. Lia and Judy came to the post office with me to pick up the chicks, and we created a bit of a raucous party in the parking lot. Lots of chirping and general revelry.
The silkie bantams are indeed the lapdogs of the chicken world. They are so incredibly adorable. One is almost as big as golfball, and the other two are just slightly larger. The only way I can keep track of them is that one has an eye infection and a little Karo syrup on her head (Calliope), and the really tiny one has a very poopy bum. I think I will name her Ruthie. Don't hold me to it, but she just seems Ruth-ish to me. We lost one of the bantams today, and it's actually quite upsetting. I have no idea what happened as she was doing so well the past two days. The other bantam is as of yet nameless. How rude of me.
The bantams have furry feet and five toes on each foot.
What really cracks me up is the amount of time Mike has spent with all the chicks. And it's not just one or two chicks. If he holds one, he makes sure to hold them all. And when Calliope's eyes were looking ghastly, he did a lot of research on chicken eye ailments on his own.
It is very hard to photograph chickens. I need photographer friend Dan.
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