Last night my boss text messaged this to me:
“Also do me a favour please and remove the chicken pics from the cabinets in the front. Not that I don’t love chickens lol but I don’t want customers focusing on that in the front. Feel free to use the drawing room…” and “…it’s not so much the pics, I can’t stand pictures taped to things. Looks cheap.”
OK there, boss, fair enough, but they’re CHICKENS. As an avid chicken farmer, I took it a little personally. I was also disappointed because I had yet to add any pictures of my ducks!
I removed the pictures, added a picture of the piercer holding a cock to Instagram and moved this chick decoration given to me by the other piercer right near the front door.
Anyways, I didn’t have my sweet chicken pictures at work today to boost my morale. I left right when my shift ended because I wanted to get home to my chickies and duckies. OK, I still left like 10 minutes late, but I usually stay even later than that. A lot of times I’ll make supply runs on the way home but instead I let myself be late this morning so that I could grab supplies on my way into work.
I came home and visited the barn. Señor Degrassi and Helga, his bottom bitch, were chilling in their pen, seemingly happy and their water was much less dirty than before. I can’t believe how much ducks dirty their water. (Either way I bought them a poultry waterer today to help keep it clean.)
Mademoiselle and Sweetpea were nowhere in sight.
Oh, I guess I should clarify that I released my Muscovy ducks this morning to become free-range ducks, so that they could choose to live in the sweet barn and be cared for by me, and otherwise there are tons of creeks, ponds, and friendly farms in the area if they decided to leave (sad for me, but probably happy for them if they made that choice).
I tried not to let Mademoiselle and Sweetpea’s absence ruin my night. I knew there was no guarantee that the ducks would agree to live with me and I wouldn’t want to force animals to be my “pets.”
My dear husband and I still wandered around the fields, split up to each take a section of the creek, looked in the forest, looked around all the buildings and fenced-off areas, and, alas, there were no ducks.
We went for a small drive to see if they wandered to any local farms up the road and ended up slowly driving by the mini-horse farm, as I do on a regular basis. This evening I counted like TWENTY mini-horses and I felt rather jealous.
On our way back home I spotted Sweetpea wandering out from under a camper. We stopped the vehicle and escorted Sweetpea and Mademoiselle back to the barn and, I gotta say, I felt so relieved.
I have lots of sweet things to write about my chickons as well, from Patches’s continued gender identity crisis (why does he insist on sitting in the most popular nests?) to my hopeful solution of my too-many-eggs problem to Whitetail looking so cute just doing little chickon things to the fact that I dropped 2 bills on pet-poultry supplies on my way home from work. Having a job as a tattoo shop manager enables me to support my chicken farming habits because thus far I have made ZERO dollars as a “chicken farmer” and I dgaf. The downside is I don’t actually have time tonight to write about my chicken farmin’ adventures. Oh well.