Can hens crow? Well--not exactly crow--more like a gobble actually--or a seal barking--only Phyllis isn't supposed to do ANY sort of noisemaking because she is supposed to be a SHE!
I am up to HERE with My Pet Chicken. STRIKE ONE: They shipped my day old babies and didn't put my phone number on the package even tho they said my phone number would be on the top of the box. They made a big deal about letting the post office know I was expecting peeps-- and I DID. I called and pestered and wasn't happy till I had every postman who wasn't on vacation or at the races on the lookout for a box that peeped--a box that would have my phone number on it. Damned if I didn't get my peeps a day late cause there was no phone number. Grrrrrrrr!
Strike TWO: One of my babies was broken. Her leg was so badly broken it finally fell off. I happen to be hugely fond of my gimpy chicken. I love her just the way she is BUT maybe if I'd got her ON TIME I could have saved that leg. And if the frikkin PHONE NUMBER had been on the box, the Post Office would have CALLED me. How do I know? Because my postman made a special trip to the house. The main post office called asking if they knew of anyone who had mentioned they were expecting chickens! I have Friends who have ordered hundreds of baby chicks over the years and have never had one arrive damaged like that. Dead maybe--but not broken.
STRIKE THREE: I'm not even supposed to have chickens and while a bunch of nice little hens can peck around relatively unnoticed, roosters are a BIIIIG nono. I ordered hens--paid extra too. So I get a call that there's been a substitution--they substituted a "Barred Plymouth Rock" cause the kind I ordered didn't hatch. OK so I looked up "Barred Plymouth Rock" and I didn't have any problem with another black and white gurl. They're pretty chickens and have nice personalities. Good! Except that Phyllis isn't a Barred Plymouth Rock--she's a Dominique--and it would appear that Phyllis is actually "Phil."
And that is STRIKE FOUR. I love Phyllis. She's huge--a big black and white chicken with a beautiful bright red rose comb (look it up if you care) and wattles. So when "she" started gobbling, I checked online and durned if SHE doesn't look like a HE. I think when I finish this I'm sending a nasty letter to My Pet Chicken.
1 comment:
I see blogs for most everything, but very few chicken blogs. Way to go old timer. This could be the new hot thing. Maybe, celebrities will start carrying around chickens with diamond accessories worth more than our houses, combined. I hope they get covered in chicken shit.
Post a Comment