July 14, 2008
I apparently have a very strange side of me. Lila Bird, as I have taken to call her, talks to me when I talk to her. I took her out on the deck today and as the sun went down, she started looking for me. I was bouncing between working on the computer and doing laundry. I was sitting on the deck, and she came to me with 'that' look in her eyes. She sat at my feet in consternation, and I finally picked her up and put her on the chair arm. She sat there looking at me, and twisting around in an obvious attempt to tell me that sitting next to me was not sufficient. I picked her up and put her on my leg with many reminders that she was not allowed to crap on my leg. I kept on typing and she settled down, practically falling asleep on my leg. Granted, she never pooped on me, but I think we are creating an unhealthy relationship for her to go back to the coop. She talks to me any time I call her name.
She is a good chicken, though.
Dr. Dolittle, at your service...
She is a good chicken, though.
Dr. Dolittle, at your service...