You, Too, Can Learn To Dance...

Last spring I house sat for one of my nieces and her hubs when they went to Germany on a business/pleasure trip for a week.

When you have chickens and turkeys you don't get to leave home for more than a day unless you have some one you can call to come tend them and Laura knew just who to call.

Naturally, I said "You bet!" I went over a couple of times and went through the feeding and watering with her and then came the big day. I took them to the airport, went back home, picked up my girls and we went house-sitting and bird watching.


One of the best parts of the day was in the morning when we, me and the schnauzers, would go open the chicken house and let them out for the day.

I checked the feed and water, filled what was needing filling and then go get a bucket of scratch and throw it out for the chickens all around the yard. They loved seeing me and that bucket.

They weren't so crazy about the schnauzers, but they put up with them just so they could get the scratch. Chloe and SueSue tried real hard to check out the chickens, but the chickens and roosters were having no inclination to make friends, at least not with the dogs.

And the truth be told, Chloe was wanting her some chicken on the hoof. Suess didn't care so much about catching them, she wanted to play chase, but my little old lady wanted to kill them.

I have no idea where she got that. She has always minded me. I mean, I've called her off a squirrel before, but when I first found out about her chicken and duck chasing propensity was three years ago when we were visiting another niece.

Launa and I were walking around checking out her chickens and a pet goose and I am here to tell you my Chloe was off and running close to the ground after that goose. SueSue said, "Oh, that looks like fun, let's play chase!!" I was able to get Suess's attention, but Chloe was focused on G.O.O.S.E. I did manage to keep goose murder from happening, but feathers were flying.

But I digress...

After the goose experience, I had to help my sweet Chloe to understand that when mom says no, mom means NO, and we, the dogs and me, could go out around the chickens and roosters and I could take some photos and tend to my chores without worrying about chicken murders.

And although I was unable to teach the girls to herd the chickens back to the coop at night, we got through the week, we all had a lot of fun and spent quality time wandering all over outdoors, taking photos and caring for the chickens and the turkeys.


And what, you might ask, does this post have to do with dancing?

If you've never been in a chicken yard, throw a bunch of marbles or little rocks in a confined area, take off your shoes and try to tippy-toe through all of them without stepping on any of them.

Maybe then you'll get the drift of what I'm talking about, especially if you relate the marbles or rocks to chicken or turkey shit. You'll find you can dance just trying to keep your balance without steppin' in it and getting it all over your shoes.

I like to call it "The Poo-Poo Dance."

Turkeys will be featured next week, as is appropriate for Thanksgiving week.

Thank you and good night.