I was pleasantly surprised by the number of urban chicken people so close to home. Nothing like getting fellow chicken people telling stories, exchanging ideas and experiences, giving and taking advise. Talking with people who really know what it is like to be greeted in the morning by your chickens makes you feel, well, not as odd anyway.
I did find out the Cleo was a mistaken identity. She is not a Marans, though she does look like one, she is actually a Barred Rock and she has many of her kind in the neighborhood. I wonder if we got all the Barred Rocks and the Buff Orpingtons together in one place, would they know who their human was? They say that sheep know their shepherd's voice, what about chickens? The problem is, if they don't recognize us, how would we know which ones are ours? You know they all look alike. Do we all look alike to them too?
We saw a lot of ideas for improvements and we saw the benefits of what we do.
Interestingly, we are the only ones who seem to be bothered by the raccoons. Lots of hawk stories though.
I did find out the Cleo was a mistaken identity. She is not a Marans, though she does look like one, she is actually a Barred Rock and she has many of her kind in the neighborhood. I wonder if we got all the Barred Rocks and the Buff Orpingtons together in one place, would they know who their human was? They say that sheep know their shepherd's voice, what about chickens? The problem is, if they don't recognize us, how would we know which ones are ours? You know they all look alike. Do we all look alike to them too?
We saw a lot of ideas for improvements and we saw the benefits of what we do.
Interestingly, we are the only ones who seem to be bothered by the raccoons. Lots of hawk stories though.
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