Yesterday I wrote about our perpetually sleeping dog: Digger (and for those of you clever people who are paying attention, yes, this is the same little guy that escaped this summer and ended up with a free all-expense paid vacation to the animal shelter the next town over – do YOU know how difficult it is track down a small dog who can’t see or hear?)
Anyway last night after reading my post, Addy asked me what Digger had to do with our chicken flock. She was a little confused. “What does Digger have to do with chickens? You always write about the chickens” she said to me.
“Actually I always write about our flock which as far as I’m concerned includes chickens, children, dogs, and parents”, I corrected her. “But you’re right, ultimately it all seems to come back to the chickens doesn’t it?”
There was a bit of silence as she digested this information.
“What would you have written about?” I asked her.
Addy bit her lip in thought. “ Well, yesterday when I was gathering the eggs, I reached under a hen to the eggs she was sitting on and she pecked me.” Addy then poutingly showed me her hand which still sported a slight chicken-peck bruise.
“Okay What have you learned?” I asked her hoping to turn this into a life lessons experience along the lines of how mothers protect babies, of mothers being devoted to the job of raising their young, and why mothers will rise up in defense willing to put themselves at risk against a perceived threat so their young will live.
“I’ve learned that like Digger, you should let sleeping chickens lie.”
And there you go, you see it really all does come back to the chickens, doesn’t it?