Minnie the moocher
Y’know, when we started this whole chicken thing, waaaaay back when the wondrous Hugh was starting his Chicken Out campaign, lots of people said to us how they have their own little personalities and you get quite attached to them. At the time we just laughed and thought ‘yeh, right, isn’t it funny how people always want to give dumb animals a personality’. But, dearest reader, it’s really true. Take Minnie the crap Rhode Island Red (they’re supposed to be dark red, but she’s a kind of pale ginger), for example. Her perpetual escapology drove me mental at first. Whatever kind of fencing I put up, however much I clipped her wings (they were practically stumps at one stage) I couldn’t keep her contained, but now I’m actually quite happy that she just wanders around. I love looking out of the window when I’m at the kitchen sink and seeing her bimbling round the garden with her best mate Chilli the Black Rock:
She’s also completely and utterly in love with Hubby, which we all find absolutely hysterical. I think it started when she first followed him as he mowed the lawn and uncovered all sorts of tasty goodies. Now, within two seconds of the garage door clanging, you’ll see Hubby pushing the lawn mower round the garden, followed by a hopelessly infatuated Minnie in hot pursuit, doing that ridiculously comical ’Lee Evans’ fast walk that chickens do so well. He had to take a strimmer to the garden heart today, and ended up having to put her inside the coop lest he gave her an unintentional haircut (see, he loves her really – he only swears at her when he thinks anybody’s listening):
I’m pretty convinced that she actually sees herself as a human, following me back into the kitchen after I’ve hung out the washing, and pootling happily around, pecking at crumbs on the floor whilst keeping up a perpetual little burble of contented clucking.
This evening she spent the entire time perched on the handlebar of #2′s bike. Eventually it got so dark that we had to gently lift her off and pop her into the coop.
Tomorrow I’ll have a chat with her and remind her she’s a chicken. After we’ve had our Cheerios together, obviously.
35 Responses to “Minnie the moocher”
They’ll never think their just chickens, and that gives me hope!
One day, until then I will survive (just) by living vicariously
Instead I get chickens.
And they’re not even that hot either.
Pssh.
She was also saying that you can feed them anything. ANYTHING. All human food scraps go to her chickens and she says that since doing so the eggs have been out of this world.
Thought you might like to know that little titbit from my postie! x
I’m nearly at the end of my stock of free range eggs from Wales courtesy of my sister’s pal. They are a-ma-zing. The yolks are a bright orange….mmmm. Nothing like free range.
I know. I keep boring everybody by cooking a Tesco’s egg, then a free range one and showing them the difference in colour. Really is amazing though x
quails are lovely, mine are very tame now. The girls are so sweet, they’ll eat out of your hand and tweet at you. love the eggs too
psychobird is just priceless! he’s a spongebob fan and even kicks the dog out of his basket!!! weirdest quail on the planet that one!
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