Thursday, August 26, 2010
Our little banty has a problem. She is lonely and in need of a husband and family. The problem is, she is the only banty we have. The other roosters are way out of her league. They don't even give her a second look. She has decided to take it upon herself to have chicks of her own. I think she has been watching too many Jennifer Aniston movies.
We have decided to give her the name of Prissy. After Miss Prissy, Foghorn Leghorn's love interest. Poor prissy was always trying to make Foghorn her one true love. Only to be shunned by the other hens and Foghorn himself.
Prissy stopped laying eggs and decided to sit on her nest day after day trying to hatch, well, nothing because her nest was empty. She believed she was sitting on an egg and would puff up and make threatening noises every time we went close to her. After 3 weeks of this, I took pity on her and decided to put a golf ball in her nest. I thought there was no way she would accept this abnormally large egg (large for a banty anyway, they are 1/4 to 1/2 the size of a normal chicken) but I was curious to see what she would do.
Prissy has literally taken the golf ball under her wing.
She is trying her very best to be a good mommy; patiently waiting for her baby to come. I can't help feeling sorry for her and wondering if I did more harm than good. You should hear the other hens clucking wildly and ridiculing her.
Life can be so cruel. The other hens don't care much if they have babies or not. They take it for granted. This one wants one so badly and can't. Poor little Prissy.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Oh, hi there. Did you bring me some food? Scraps? Rinds? Oooooh, I know, those little pieces of bacon that you burned for the 100th time? By the way, what is bacon? That stuff is wonderful, I tell you. Wait. What did you just say?
I'm going on a little trip? A field trip? Is it to the dump? I just love that place.
No? I'm going where????? What's that?
What chu talkin bout, Willis?
And I thought you loved me. All this time, you were just using me.
All the treats and buckets of food were just to fatten me up?
I feel so used and dirty.
Don't even look at me.