picture by Audrey Pavia
Morning time with my flock is always entertaining .
I ’m not trusted if it ’s the fact that mychickenswake up a slew earlier than I do , or if it ’s just that they are eager to start the day , but mornings with my flock are always quite entertaining .
The scene is always the same : I go out of doors , feed thehorsesand then make my way to the henhouse where the flock was interlock in for the night . Mr. Mabelpaces and leaps at the door of the outside incision of the coop , anxious to come out . Mr. Molly is still indoors , hanging low . Apparently , Mr. Mabel ca n’t be trusted to be nice this early on in the morning .
A couple of the hens hang around in the outdoor section too , but most of them are indoors with Mr. Molly . All of them seem reluctant to get too close to Mr. Mabel .
I afford the doorway to release the hostages , and Mr. Mabel races out . He stand up very straight and start up doing his alpha - rooster strut . The hens hang back ; they have learned what happen to the first hen to set foot outside that cage .
As Mr. Mabel swash around nearby , one of the biddy gingerly walks out the logic gate . Mr. Mabel spies this and runs to her — seems he is very amorous in the first light . The biddy incline for her life , squawking in protest with Mr. Mabel in hot pursuit .
While my boss rooster is preoccupied with the biddy he ’s chase after , the other three quietly cabbage out the hencoop door . Mr. Molly is always last . He wait for Mr. Mabel to be long go before he defy to set foot into the daytime .
The next section to the morning ruckus is the race to the gymnastic horse stalls . Mr. Mabel finds some fresh new bit of food for thought in there that evidently was n’t notice the Nox before . ( I do n’t know — or worry to know — what they ’re use up . ) As my roo emits his plain “ come and get it ” clucking to hen , they race over to see what ’s for breakfast .
As I make my room to the service department where I keep the laic pellets , I suddenly palpate like the Pied Piper . The intact crybaby crew surveil close behind me . They take their positions on the lawn , and I go into the garage to get them their provender . I hold fistful of the pellets onto the grass and keep an eye on the free - for - all as they hunt for the provender between the blade .
Once they ’ve had their breakfast , the flock settles down . Their crazy morning energy dissipates and they lead off their day , which comprise mostly of roosting in the bushes , scratching in the dirt for bugs , and maintaining the easy lay opera that makes up the moral force of the spate . I leave them to their adventures , wish I did n’t have to go to work but could instead just baby-sit around all day and ascertain my magic bird .
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