| Waiter, there's a chicken in my yard! |
We've had rain here for weeks on end. And where there was a small break, it was during the week when Dan and I were at work. As a result, the grass grew... and grew... and grew. It got to be bad enough that I was reluctant to walk across the lawn for fear of what would be hiding in the grass. Snakes? Rats? Wombats? (Wombats are cute critters but apparently, very ornery and they like to bite.)
Finally, after three washed out weekends, Dan was able to run the lawn mower through the grass (but not without some drama.) He scraped his finger on a tree. He straightened up as he mowed under a tree and konked himself on the head. He got oil on the air filter and the mower died which required a quick trip down to the lawn mower repair shop. Thankfully, they had the part that he needed.
The grass was so high, he had to run the mower over it twice - but the effort was worth it! No more hiding places for scary things! The lawn looks like green velvet. Dan was mighty proud of his work, and he called me over to the kitchen window to survey his lawn mowing prowess.
I was suitably impressed. The lawns did look good!
The native birds love it when Dan mows the lawn as well, as they come down and eat up the now exposed grass seed. Our lawn is often covered with rosellas and galahs after a mow. This time, however, there was one lone bird pecking for seed. It was a bird I hadn't really seen before in the wild. It was mainly white and walked in a strange, familiar way.
I looked at Dan. "I think that's a chicken," I exclaimed.
Dan looked at where I was pointing. "Are you sure," he asked.
"It sure looks like a chicken to me!" And the more we looked, the more we agreed it was a chicken. A feral chicken that had escaped its pen. It was an ugly chicken, too - white, scrawny and mottled. I decided that if it laid any eggs in our lawn, I was going to call dibs on them.
Dan went outside to investigate. The chicken, being a chicken, was startled and flew up into a tree. Not into a tree branch, but into the trunk of a tree, which stunned it and sent it back down to the ground where it fluttered for a bit and then took off again, clumsily returning to a neighbor's coop.
Dan stood there laughing. He and the chicken had something in common. They had both bonked their heads on our trees, and all in one afternoon!Labels: feral chicken, mowing |
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When Spence and I were vacationing on St. Croix, our hostess had free ranging animals. This includes dogs, cats, guinea hens, peacock, chickens,horses....lots more. It was fascinating to watch the natural behavior of the animals. They were free to be themselves....not cooped up,or destined for the cooking pot. The dogs kept the chicken population under control. They ate the eggs if they could find them. The chickens became very savy about outwitting the dogs. I heard the mother chicken talking to her chicks, instructing them were to go for the night to be out of range of the mongoose. Don't tell me chickens are dumb. They are smart.
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Name: Melanie O.
Home: Durham, North Carolina, United States
About Me: Female, American health and beauty-conscious professional who has rekindled a childhood love of dolls.
See my profile...
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posted by Melanie O. at 
When Spence and I were vacationing on St. Croix, our hostess had free ranging animals. This includes dogs, cats, guinea hens, peacock, chickens,horses....lots more. It was fascinating to watch the natural behavior of the animals. They were free to be themselves....not cooped up,or destined for the cooking pot. The dogs kept the chicken population under control. They ate the eggs if they could find them. The chickens became very savy about outwitting the dogs. I heard the mother chicken talking to her chicks, instructing them were to go for the night to be out of range of the mongoose. Don't tell me chickens are dumb. They are smart.