If you read yesterday's blog, you may have caught reference to the fact that my spring chickens are not yet in their coop because it's being inhabited by dogs right now.
You may also have caught my comment about some of the girls roosting down at the barn, while some are hanging out here in front of the house.
Did you catch that?
That I've been letting some little sweeties hang out up front? In spite of their pooping prowess?
Well, this is the thanks I get.
Oh, sorry, can't quite see that?
What we have here are three presumptuous chickens taking a breather right there on top of my security door.
"What? Oh...what? Is this not OK? No? Oh, well, goodness we're sorry."
"....We're not moving, mind you, but we're real sorry you're not happy about it."
Ummm, ladies? Guess what...you're moving! And I know just the guy to see that you do.
Don't know what I'd do without that man.
Bed head, and all.
Much as there's a weird little part of me that toys with the idea that it might be funny, just once, to utter the sentence, "Now, Karlie, don't forget to shut the security door. You don't want a chicken pooping on your head," I'm just not sure it's worth it.
I sense a dog pen raising coming on real soon, so we can put these pretty girls where they belong.
Love from the farm,
(P.S. You should know my poor mother is undoubtedly shaking her head in distress right now because I've told the whole world that chickens roosted on my front door, no matter that it lasted no more than 45 minutes. She struggles a bit with my put-it-all-out-there ways. Sorry, Mom. Love ya! If you come visit, I promise no chickens will poop on your head.)