“Hey, look Tod! The Girls are out! Yippee!” I yelled, and we both pressed our noses against the bedroom window and stared down at the garden below.
One by one, beak to tail, our beautiful chickens were making their dignified way out onto the lawn, where they spread out and began to graze the winter grass in a perfectly straight line, two chicken sized spaces between each one. We giggled. They looked like the chicken police in the middle of a beak tip search.
But seriously, it was just great to see them back. They had spent the last two months unwilling to leave the large greenhouse that serves as their bedroom and their shelter from inclement weather. Mother Nature seems to have mislaid the tap that switches off the rain in this part of the world, so we have been unmercilessly drenched for weeks on end. Try as we might, we hadn’t been able to coax the Girls outside, even during the occasional gap in the bad weather.
They remained in the greenhouse week after week, sitting dejectedly on their bales of straw, beaks against the panes of glass, staring outside at the rain hammering down on the house and garden. Our normally lively, inquisitive, nay downright nosey Girls had become chicken zombies. I was frantic, “What’s wrong with them?” I squeaked half a dozen times a day, “They must be so bored!”
So I had another look at my list of ‘ The 100 Best Chicken Treats’ and ‘Fun & Games for Chickens’ , and we went over to the mill and bought another bale of straw, some yummy organic chicken pellets, and a hanging seed thing that you’re supposed to peck at. Tod said they wouldn’t like it, but I ignored him. Well, you can’t exactly provide them with the latest chick flic, or a pile of ‘Fashionable Chicken about Town’ magazines, can you? or even a DVD of the ‘Chickendales’…. huuum.
I had the idea that tempting them with a series of chicken- favorite treats might perk them up & instill some life into them, and actually it did. Well, for a short time anyway.
But of course what they really wanted was an end to the rain so they could rampage round on Tod’s newly laid lawn, and dig in his neat borders – that’s fun! You never know what you may find there. Worms top the list of goodies.
Our Girls are certainly not wimps, but they don’t like getting their feathers wet. The longer they spend out in the rain, the smaller they become as their feathers start to weigh them down. Have you ever tried drying a chicken with a towel? Don’t.
So when finally the deluge stopped, out they came in a pecking order row, onto the lawn. How good to see them back.
So remember, my fellow chicken loving bloggites, pray for dry weather and an updated list of the ‘100 Favourite Chicken Treats’.