Fur glossy. Tail lashing. Pupils huge. Paws flying. She's in great form. Wacky kitty mode!
this post was submitted on 18 May 2025
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Feathered friends are fun.
As always, the rooster is absurd. He's a walking Monty Python sketch.
Baby bird is currently obsessed with biscuits. The southern kind, not the cookies. Then again, so are all the humans, so who can blame her.
But volunteer hen may well be so obsessed with biscuits that it is a form of absurdity in and of itself.
Yesterday, as an example. I go out with my camera and a chair to enjoy some southern beauty and visit with the birds. Not just the chickens; there's a small handful of songbirds that know I'm a soft touch. Mr Cardinal in specific shows up in seconds after the sound of my chair unfolding.
But, volunteer hen is faster. She comes scooting up until she's about 4 feet away, just far enough that she feels confident I can't reach her. She streeeeeetches out her neck and brrrrrrrrks at me until I toss her some biscuit pieces. I have to break up any treats to begin with, or she'll get all of it. She's fast. And tiny. I've seen her run up behind the big guy, screech to a halt, slide her head under him and snatch food right from him just as he's about to grab it himself.
It's a bloody loony toons level of ridiculousness.
Yesterday, I gave out treats, biscuits, to everyone on the ground. Then, because the wrens and the female cardinal are a bit nervous of the chickens, I placed some on top of the coop.
For whatever reason, neither the rooster or the volunteer hen will jump on the coop. They can, but they don't. Rooster never even gets up there at all.
But, I place the biscuits, and volunteer hen scuttles around the coop, looking and scolding me for having placed them so cruelly.
Once she realizes that I'm not going to get them down for her, you'd think she'd hop up on the lower end and climb up.
But noooooo, that's not how she rolls.
She stomps off to a section of the fence where there's a limb hanging down. She squats, takes a quick run, and barely manages to grab the limb. This limb is about five feet off the ground. She squabbles up the limb, flapping her wings you help out. A squabble sounds like a mix between a gobble and a squawk. BrrbblebrkburbbrkBAWK!
She navigates her way to the limb to the fence that's about six feet high.
Once there, she walk the opposite direction of the coop where I am, and hops onto a different limb. This, so far, is pretty normal for her at bedtime. She roosts near there. Normally, she repeats the process until shes nestled into the crook of a branch, going across a few others to get to her favorite spot.
This time, bed was not her goal. She takes a different path, further into the sweetgum tree. Then she gets lost to sight among the heavier foliage, while squabbling and flapping. She comes back into view as she finds a branch that's right next to one from the pecan tree, and crosses over.
Then she meanders through the limbs and branches of the pecan until she reaches a branch of that tree that's a few feet behind where I sit, and overhangs there.
From that branch, she wobbles and wiggles until the branch is bouncing. She flaps her wings for balance and then launches, with a furious flapping, along with a squabble that ends with a thunk and the scrabbling of talons on the roof of the coop. The roof that's only three feet high. The roof that has a second section that's only two feet high on the other end.
She thunks onto the coop, and is offended that the biscuit pieces are long gone.
I reach over with a piece and place it on the end of the coop. Apparently, this is not allowed. She takes a running, waddling dash and launches herself back onto the fence, where she sits there for about a minute scolding me vociferously.
I toss some more biscuit down on the ground, because you always tip the performer.
She does not hop down to get it.
No, she walks back up the pecan branch, and works her way back through two trees to the limb she first got onto, and jumps from the highest section that's over the fence, back to the ground. She waddles over, brrrrk-brk-brk to the piece of biscuit and happily eats it.
Why? Because chicken.
Which could well be the defining statement of my life at this point. Hey, south, why are you bent over and breathless, laughing? Because chicken. Hey, south, why do you have a bag of biscuit pieces hanging out of your pocket here at the doctor's office? Because chicken.