Recall the chicken massacre of earlier this year. And the poor scaredy-cat rooster that wouldn’t leave the hen house for several weeks after that mishap? I could swear I blogged about him, but for the life of me, I can’t find it in my archives.
Well, he woke Zach up at 5:30 am, on Saturday morning, pronouncing to the world that it was dawn.
This chicken venture has been so much fun, though I’m not sure yet how I’m going to keep them out of my flower beds next year, unless I fence them in and they don’t want to be fenced in. Besides that, I need them to eat all the obnoxious grasshoppers that killed my garden this past summer.
I still haven’t heard him crow, but I’m sure y’all will hear all about it when I do. And since I took some photos of them the other day, I suppose I should share:
Crow for me-