…at the first sign that we’re waking up, a leg stretch, a yawn, any rustling whatsoever, and up he comes. Flipping and flopping, yawning, licking and softly woofing.
Sometimes I just lay as still as possible and try to stealthily check the time. He’s got a sixth sense about us though and just knows. Or he’s already been awake for hours, sitting there on the floor watching us. Creepy little cutie.
It used to be the three musketeers. We’ve got a little sub-flock of three musketeers though. Miss Marple and two of the “chicks” (they are hens/pullets now, but I still call them chicks) are laying, so most days we’re getting three eggs again. Gosh I can’t describe how cool that is.
The bigger the flock, the more problems you’ll tend to have. More ladies to boss each other around, more chances for disease and more opportunity for pecking and all around chicken craziness. Recently, my absolutely favorite chicken Katniss, was getting her feet feathers pecked out. Now I’m not sure if that’s because she pecked them, then others saw the blood and went all psycho, or because someone singled her out. Either way, it was bad news. One day I found her hiding in the coop, blood spread all over the roost and dripping from her foot. Poor girl!
I love her. She jumps onto my lap and clucks sweetly. She also has the softest feathers out of all of them. I read that one way to keep chickens from pecking each other is to keep them busy and therefore distracted. Well duh. We tried out one suggestion, and so far I think it’s helped.
We strung wire through a head of cabbage (from our own garden no less) and hung it in the run. Let the chicken jumping commence. I love me some chicken watching time.
Always right by my side. Looking up at me with those big brown eyes, just waiting for a head pat or belly scratch.
That’s all you ask of me. It doesn’t matter what I say, or how often I’m stressed, late, messy or grumpy, you give me your best all the time. All you ask of me is a little attention. Some scratches, tug-a-war and a walk around the block.
So today, Gideon, I celebrate you. It’s your “adoption day” on Saturday. You were 4 months old when we brought you home with us 3 years ago. I’ve never regretted it for one moment.
So to celebrate, we bought a big bag full of doggy treats, food and bones to keep in the car, for when we notice homeless dogs who are looking for some kibble. Gideon also got to lick peanut butter off a spoon and he’s sporting a much needed new doggy tag.
So happy we belong to each other, Gidster.
*p.s. If anyone is interested in this dog tag, I bought it from a fantastic shop on Etsy called, J Hollywood Design. These would make great Christmas gifts, for the animal-lovers in your life. My phone number is actually on the front of Gideon’s tag. But ya know, I used my re-touch tool to remove it. I trust you…but there’s always that random person who shouldn’t have access to people’s phone numbers.