…Well, it was for one of the baby peepers, who are now big egg laying chickens. She jumped right up on my shoulder when she thought I was withholding extra grapes from the girls. I had actually reserved grapes earlier to feed to Layla. A chicken who suddenly went lame two days ago. We tried to fix her up yesterday. I tried baby aspirin today. She did not fix up. She could no longer jump onto the perch. Hippity hop down the hill for treats, or follow her rooster, “Little Man,” around the farm.
These things happen to animals on a farm. I still do not like the fact that “Little Man” will not have his lady any longer. He spent the past three days sitting with her in the chicken coop. He was that kind of rooster. When treats were thrown, he would pick one up, put it down, and bock bock bock until Layla came over to eat the treat. Layla wasn’t as fast as some of the chickens, so he couldn’t always save a bite for her, but he did his best. Occasionally he would gobble down a treat without presenting it to her, but in their two years together, that didn’t happen very often.
I’m not sure who “Little Man” will save treats for tomorrow.
I'm just someone trying to figure out how to juggle ten acres, work, a mama with stage four cancer, and a whole lot of grumpy. This blog started out as "Grumpy Gal's Guide to Gratitude," but since all I really keep typing about is the garden, I figured I might as well own it! So, thanks for joining me as I try and figure out how the heck to kick myself in the booty and get on with life.