The second silent morning… Our chickens have the best possible home chickens can have. With vegetarians, who had (and have) chickens for 10 years, have an amazing property, are nice people, and Leilani has a playdate with their 7 year old daughter at their house tomorrow.
But I’m sad. When I was talking to someone yesterday about them I teared up (and felt really embarrassed about it), but I really enjoyed these pretty, funny birds.
When I stepped out, they made me feel like a Roman Emperor. They’d hear the door, or my steps, and they’d all come running from all directions, looking up to me, squawking and bok-bok-boking excitedly.
It sometimes was hard to walk through the yard, I stepped on more than one chickenfoot, and in more chicken poops than I can count. Opening coconuts was equally hard. Sometimes we had to guard the coconut-opener with a hose – the one thing they respected, they don’t like showers, but the machete didn’t seem dangerous to them.
But the crowing in the morning always made us cringe… The neighbors… Depending on the weather they smelled bad. They got into and onto and out of everything. For chickens they were pretty curious I thought. But also afraid of the strangest things, like Leilani jumping on the trampoline. They were smart in their own way, and having good instincts.
Mikey seems to miss them, although he likes that the catdoor is open again and he can leave the yard freely.