The chickens were just as anxious to 'fly the coop'. Once again, they made me laugh at how much they act like us. Like any good Canadian, they couldn't wait to leave the main coop and go to the
The little coop is barely big enough to hold 2 chickens comfortably, but they all crowded in. It has no amenities, no waterer or feeder, or straw lined nesting boxes. It's a rustic cedar cottage and they had the time of their lives in there. I would call them silly chickens, but I've squashed my family into a cedar shack, that had very few amenities, many a time and called it our vacation.
Since they were on holiday, they did a little sunning and bathing. ~
Nothing is finer on a sunny, spring day than to head for the woods on a hike, with a pickup picnic lunch. ~
Their personalities are as different as you find in any family. Rukmini, on the right, is bossy and pushes her sisters out of the way to grab the best bugs. Maddy, on the left, is shy and a bit on the sneaky side. In the middle is Elizabeth. She is polite and very particular about keeping her feathers snowy white. The queen of the flock, Kay, is at the back, leading the way into certain trouble as she takes them to the neighbours yard. Old Vivien isn't in the picture because she always keeps her distance from the rowdy youngsters. She's a rescue and even leary of me; never sure if fate will turn on her again and have her scheduled to be culled out.
Of course, I wasn't on holiday and it was a perfect time to do a spring cleaning on the main coop. All this winter bedding and poop had to come out. ~
A scrub down and some fresh straw makes it good as new for when they come home from their vacation. ~
Last, but not least, I put Kay's baby back in the nursery. It may look like a golf ball to you and I, but to her it is a beloved child. As much as she screams and carries on while she lays an egg, she doesn't have any attachment to it. The other chickens can sit on it and anybody can take it away without bothering her in the least. But, don't even think of touching her baby! She'll puff herself up and pace up and down the coop, hollering bloody murder until you put it back.
Even to a chicken, love is blind.