Tuesday, February 7, 2017

Mob Hit

The thugs.  
Don't be taken in by their soft, fluffy appearance.  The Black Australorp is the queen of the roost - I've taken to calling her the Godmother.  She meanders around, acting all sweet and nice, but Thug One and Thug Two are always nearby, ready and willing to break a few kneecaps.

Then there is the Red-Headed-Step-Child...

...the quirky, hyper, misfit who is into everything, always looking for a score and always trying to break into the inner circle.  Thug One and Thug Two make sure that that never happens.  They are the reason her feathers still look henpecked - they are.  The henchhens never give up.

The thugs tried to stage a coup this afternoon.  One of them distracted me while the other sneaked up behind me, moving in for the kill.  I nearly broke my ankle trying not to step on her.  Its the same ankle that I mangled two years ago and one year ago and six months ago and which was just starting to function like it should.  

They acted all innocent and offended of course, like I was the problem for getting in their way, but I know the truth.  I'm not falling for their fluffy, clucky little ways.  The only thing keeping chickens from terrorizing the world is the fact that they only weigh 5 pounds.

Don't be fooled.


  1. My grandmother was born in 1890. Grew up with livestock. One day the cock-of-the-walk rooster made one too many runs at her and she rung his neck. Into the stew pot he went. Gotta keep the upper hand with this birds. The red head needs two red headed friends. She's lonesome. Glad to see your hen house has worked for them.

  2. Oh my gosh, you had me cracking up with this one!! I can just see it all...including their indignant reaction at your miss-stepping. And their names - perfect!
    Seriously though, birds can be wicked creatures and I do believe that they would take over the world if they could. :)

  3. Too funny.

    I had to dispatch my unwanted (insert curse word here) rooster this evening. He showed up last spring in a batch of supposedly sexed chicks. He's been sneak attacking me for months. It got to the point where I was looking over my shoulder whenever I went outside. I had hoped his behavior would moderate when he got used to his hormones, but no such luck.

    My grandma was excellent at wringing necks, but I wasn't sure, so after dark I pinned him down and shot him in the head with my pellet gun. It was a shame, because he took good care of his girls, and was super handsome. Pretty is as pretty does...

  4. When I was raising meat birds there were over 100 free ranging my yard. The running joke was "don't fall down, you will never be seen again". They really are little mini T-Rex's.

  5. Chickens are incredible, we used to let them entertain us when my boys and I raised them. When we had chickens here a few years ago, again, very entertaining. Especially when one would face off with a hound dog. One hen found that was her last face off. Others would kick the hounds out of their houses to lay eggs in the dog's bed.

  6. The red chooks (what we call chickens downunder) certainly are different. I keep meaning to buy some sort of heritage breed the next time I top up the flock but I just love the outgoing characters of my red terrors. I have a black Australorp too, just one these days. She is pretty gentle but all the red ones hang around her and defer to her like she is the queen. Size matters to chickens, it seems. :)