Pretty good. The sass levels are consistent. As are the silliness levels.
Our hen in particular is endlessly entertaining.
Alas, the best story from the last week doesn’t translate well from reality to print, because me, my wife, and my kid were all sore from laughing afterwards.
That being said, this hen is what you might call insistent that anything we eat is actually hers, and any delay in her receiving her portion punishable by flapping, squawking, and/or pecks.
She was on the arm of the couch, sleeping, when I decided to enjoy some Doritos I had been saving for a while. We don’t keep junk foods around; they’re only bought as an occasional treat, so it’s actually a pretty big deal.
I put them in a bowl, because only savages put their grubby mitts in the bag, rattling it and annoying everyone.
I sit down, and there arises a trilling chirp. That is her sound of curiosity and it took maybe a second to go from purring slightly in her sleep, to standing up, trilling, and stretching her little neck as far as it would go.
She teeters on the arm of the couch trying to see what I have, then falls into my lap having completely forgotten to do anything but see what that smell is.
Thus began the dance.
I would have a chip, which is a slow process for me because I want to enjoy it. Slow chewing, sniffing before the bite to enhance the taste. Yes, I put that kind of effort into food, even chips, you should see me when I indulge in good chocolate.
Her little head would be bobbing all around the bowl, trying to see exactly what the heck the monkey was enjoying so much. I’d lift the bowl, and she’d go under, that little chicken head poking out. I’d bring it down to get the next chip, she’s right there, poking over the edge like a cartoon character.
Remember finding nemo? Mine! Mine! Mine! That’s the vibe. Like a bird looking into the lens of the camera trying to see what’s what.
During the twenty odd minutes it took to finish the chips (partly because of her antics and laughing at them), she is non-stop walking back and forth across my lap, switching between pleading in her sweet chicken trill, and scolding me for moving the bowl away.
See? Doesn’t translate as funny as it was in person because you can’t see and hear it. That’s what makes it both absurd and endearing at the same time. The single minded apex predator daring anything to reach her prey.
The disappointed baaaaaawwwwwwkkkkk at the end, when I put the bowl aside was what really sent us over the edge though. It really is like living with a cartoon character some days.
But, never fear, chicken lovers! She got treats! Dried mealworm was given once we could stop laughing. Which caused me to be forgiven, as she promptly snuggled into my arm once she’d devoured a few.
I keep saying it irl and on lemmy, but if anyone had suggested in early 2023 that not only would we have pet chickens, but that one would be inside with us at night, and be so damn hooked into our lives, I would have laughed and thought you were full of it. And I never would have imagined loving either of them the way I do.
Hell, that was part of the point. We had lost a dog and a cat in six months, I was wrung out emotionally, and I recognize that my body won’t let me take care of most animals properly, so I didn’t want another animal in my life.
The first chicken was almost an accident. A neighbor had young birds and wasn’t taking care of them right, so the neighborhood staged an intervention. After some difficulty homing them all, we ended up with what we thought was a hen, but was a rooster. My kid really wanted a pet in their life, and a chicken is an outside critter that I can manage to feed in a pinch, so it worked.
And then we get this little black ball of fluff, and she’s pecked her way into my heart. If I had thought for a second I’d love either of them like this, I wouldn’t have agreed to it. I needed more time, and I’m still having trouble knowing that they’re going to be gone eventually.
Which is way off from casual, I think, but it underscores just how disturbingly endearing they are, even that mentally deficient rooster. Chickens. They’re food lol.
Speaking of! You ain’t had eggs until you’ve had fresh eggs from a well fed hen. Talk about rich, deeply flavored eggs! We’re all spoiled for eggs now. We have store bought at my friends’ house and it’s a little disappointing because we’re all used to eggs being this amazing taste experience now.
Pretty good. The sass levels are consistent. As are the silliness levels.
Our hen in particular is endlessly entertaining.
Alas, the best story from the last week doesn’t translate well from reality to print, because me, my wife, and my kid were all sore from laughing afterwards.
That being said, this hen is what you might call insistent that anything we eat is actually hers, and any delay in her receiving her portion punishable by flapping, squawking, and/or pecks.
She was on the arm of the couch, sleeping, when I decided to enjoy some Doritos I had been saving for a while. We don’t keep junk foods around; they’re only bought as an occasional treat, so it’s actually a pretty big deal.
I put them in a bowl, because only savages put their grubby mitts in the bag, rattling it and annoying everyone.
I sit down, and there arises a trilling chirp. That is her sound of curiosity and it took maybe a second to go from purring slightly in her sleep, to standing up, trilling, and stretching her little neck as far as it would go.
She teeters on the arm of the couch trying to see what I have, then falls into my lap having completely forgotten to do anything but see what that smell is.
Thus began the dance.
I would have a chip, which is a slow process for me because I want to enjoy it. Slow chewing, sniffing before the bite to enhance the taste. Yes, I put that kind of effort into food, even chips, you should see me when I indulge in good chocolate.
Her little head would be bobbing all around the bowl, trying to see exactly what the heck the monkey was enjoying so much. I’d lift the bowl, and she’d go under, that little chicken head poking out. I’d bring it down to get the next chip, she’s right there, poking over the edge like a cartoon character.
Remember finding nemo? Mine! Mine! Mine! That’s the vibe. Like a bird looking into the lens of the camera trying to see what’s what.
During the twenty odd minutes it took to finish the chips (partly because of her antics and laughing at them), she is non-stop walking back and forth across my lap, switching between pleading in her sweet chicken trill, and scolding me for moving the bowl away.
See? Doesn’t translate as funny as it was in person because you can’t see and hear it. That’s what makes it both absurd and endearing at the same time. The single minded apex predator daring anything to reach her prey.
The disappointed baaaaaawwwwwwkkkkk at the end, when I put the bowl aside was what really sent us over the edge though. It really is like living with a cartoon character some days.
But, never fear, chicken lovers! She got treats! Dried mealworm was given once we could stop laughing. Which caused me to be forgiven, as she promptly snuggled into my arm once she’d devoured a few.
I keep saying it irl and on lemmy, but if anyone had suggested in early 2023 that not only would we have pet chickens, but that one would be inside with us at night, and be so damn hooked into our lives, I would have laughed and thought you were full of it. And I never would have imagined loving either of them the way I do.
Hell, that was part of the point. We had lost a dog and a cat in six months, I was wrung out emotionally, and I recognize that my body won’t let me take care of most animals properly, so I didn’t want another animal in my life.
The first chicken was almost an accident. A neighbor had young birds and wasn’t taking care of them right, so the neighborhood staged an intervention. After some difficulty homing them all, we ended up with what we thought was a hen, but was a rooster. My kid really wanted a pet in their life, and a chicken is an outside critter that I can manage to feed in a pinch, so it worked.
And then we get this little black ball of fluff, and she’s pecked her way into my heart. If I had thought for a second I’d love either of them like this, I wouldn’t have agreed to it. I needed more time, and I’m still having trouble knowing that they’re going to be gone eventually.
Which is way off from casual, I think, but it underscores just how disturbingly endearing they are, even that mentally deficient rooster. Chickens. They’re food lol.
Speaking of! You ain’t had eggs until you’ve had fresh eggs from a well fed hen. Talk about rich, deeply flavored eggs! We’re all spoiled for eggs now. We have store bought at my friends’ house and it’s a little disappointing because we’re all used to eggs being this amazing taste experience now.