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I Am The Keeper Of My Flock

Hi everyone. I hope you are all having a good week.

We’ve been having poultry dilemmas. Although Mountain Man built a wonderful Poultry Palace, the babies don’t think it’s good enough because when Mountain Man leveled the land for the fencing, he added more dirt meaning no more grass inside the poultry yard. He did reseed but the growing birds ate the tender shoots before they had a chance to develop. So after weeks of watching guineas and turkeys fly the coop, we decided to open the gate and let them free range. Of course, they weren’t alone. I accompanied them on their journey as they discovered the joys of the world beyond the Palace walls.

At first, they were confused. “Hey Mom, it’s no fun if you just open the gate. Where’s the challenge?”

But it wasn’t long before they all went in search of greener pastures.

I have one teeny, tiny turkey who was experiencing her first day out. “Hey, what’s that green stuff? Will it bite?”

“Oh, I get it. I bite it!”

Guineas always want whatever the turkeys are eating.

But it was the chickens who once again surprised me. They headed straight to the other side of the barn where my messy horses had dropped grain.

One of my Buff Brahmas discovered horse droppings and decided the grain from poop is much more tasty.

Soon, she had company.

Although one of the more refined Aruacana chickens thought the sight of her friends eating poop was disgusting, so she had in the grass.

Before they could get into any more mischief, I decided it was time to round up my flock and here’s where all those hours of sitting with them in the Poultry Palace came in handy.

I started to sing Del Shannon’s “My Little Runaway” and recognizing our theme song, they came. First, the guineas and turkeys.

And then as the singing continued, “My little runaways, run, run, run, run, runaways,” the chickens scurried into the coop. “Stop that screeching Mom.”

We’ve found that an hour or two of supervised time out of the Poultry Palace means they are content to hang out in their yard the rest of the day.

A coyote has taken to visiting us in the evenings lured by the smell of chickens.

But not to worry. I’ve discovered if I step outside and sing one round of “Bohemian Rhapsody,” he heads into the mountains at top speed to be seen no more. Karaoke anyone? Thanks for visiting me!