Chickens aren't stupid. Not one of my girls wanted to be out in the cold drenching rain--the first of fall--that fell all day and night earlier this week. They stayed warm and dry inside their condo, occasionally taking a walk in the covered enclosure outside the back door.
It was the first day the big girls accepted Chicky-baby as a full fledged member of the flock. I guess it was just too nasty out to chase anybody. Chicky-baby was a newcomer--inherited from the farm--a house chicken that needed to be a proper chicken. The Italian ices and Necco Wafers she'd learned to love were bad for her. Her feathers were kind of scruffy from lack of sun and her little feet were starting to turn in because she couldn't go out by herself to scratch around and her nails were too long. My friends who had hand raised her straight from the incubator knew she wouldn't survive the pecking order of the farm chickens so she came to stay with me and over the last month had slowly been accepted. Now she's one of the girls and they were all curious about the critter that had taken up residence on the straw bale in the poultry palace. Not that they didn't know who it was. They'd seen it around the yard since they were tiny.
Tyson the cat likes the back yard as much as the girls. When they were little peeps she was always skulking around trying to get a little closer than they were comfortable with. Since they got big tho, they stalk Tyson and have been known to sneak up behind her while she was napping and give her a peck on the butt. Tyson is a barn cat, found as a newborn kitten, and given to us to raise when she was two and a half days old. It would appear she has found her barn. On a warm sunny day she and the girls would keep a respectable distance. I guess a cold rainy day changes the rules tho, and everybody is welcome to share a dry place in peace.
