Look at sweet Yeti! Look at her feathers on her feet! She’s doing so well and laying daily and just melting our cold backyard chicken hearts. Our hearts were cold because Trixie and Cruella had decided that laying eggs was for other chickens and not for hens of the abbey.
But now that Yeti is here, something in their chicken brains has kicked in and Trixie is back to laying. I believe that thing is “oh crap, I better lay an egg, or I’m going to Pete’s farm.” Old Cruella hasn’t laid a single egg and she’s on probation. (Click on that link to Pete’s farm. It’s one in the NY Times endless series of articles that should be subtitled Isn’t Portland ZANY? And, yes, we have sent roosters to Pete’s farm. And we received Trixie from Pete’s farm too.)
To celebrate the egg laying and Yeti in general, I gave them some ricotta cheese with mashed up egg shells. Egg shells are very good for chickens, except you have to be careful. They can’t be recognizable as egg shells, or the chickens will start pecking at their own eggs after they lay them. So I mash them up into other things like yogurt or cheese.
See? Pampered chickens.
I haven’t wanted to think too much about the person who had left this chicken to fend for herself all alone locked in a coop. But! Fancyhats had called the realtor about her to see what the deal was. This man of mine is so very honest and right all the time. I was just focused on STEALING THE CHICKEN. The realtor called back three days later and when Fancyhats asked him who was taking care of the chicken, the realtor said, “Some neighbors or something.”
Some neighbors or something.
Prior to this call, I had a bit of guilt about taking someone’s chicken. Especially one as sweet as Yeti. But after the call, all I can do is shrug. Some neighbors or something.
Oh Yeti. I’ll give you all the ricotta cheese and crushed egg shells that you want you sweet thing.