Greetings from a Chicken

Here is a funny story...although not nearly as funny to tell as it was to experience:
On any typical day after arriving home from work I am greeted by our two silly mut dogs! They stand stretching upwards toward the top of the gate, tongues wagging in an attempt to be the first to say "HELLO" to me!
They knock each other down and out of the way, this always makes walking up those first three steps toward the door enjoyable. You know you will always be loved if you have a dog! Even if the rest of the world should yearn to hate you~your dog will inevitably be there to give you a kiss and say I love you!
So yesterday I pull in the driveway and exit my car as usual making my way toward the side toward, the steps, and the dogs gate. I don't see the usual hopping and laughing that usually greets me which I thought odd, as I draw closer I can hear a cluck and bawk bawk. I head up the steps and over to the gate to see what's going on and who is standing there waiting for me ...Salt of course!
She is clucking along coming closer to the gate to get my attention~clearly she was hoping and praying i would have a small morsel to offer her. I was sad that I didn't have a chicken snack in my purse (but honestly how could i ever have guessed?). I said hello and entered into the house....and there I was greeted by my three sillly puppies!
Ah, its good to be home!

The Funniest Chickens You Ever Did Meet

So I may have mentioned at some point in this blog that chickens have far more personality then I think I would have ever guessed. They are actually quite humorous and can get as excited as a dog when they see you coming.
<--This happens to be Salt, she is the one year old Plymouth Rock Hen who is settling in so well here at Farm Webster you would think we hatched her ourselves. (we didn't!)
Salt is particularly excitable when she sees any of us coming near
in fact it makes cooping her up at night difficult.
We wait for the chickens to head for their run at night before shutting the door...but what is happening is they hear our feet steps coming and they come running back out! I am trying to offer them as much freedom as possible so, when I go out to coop them I will retreat back to the house and wait for them to head back in. At this point I often send one of the kids because my patient is fleeting the older I get.
So recently the chickens have taken to coming on the deck,
more often when we are present. They come up, cluck around and
then usually fly back off. Initially I was shooshing them back off as there are a couple pots of veggies growing and I was fearful the chickens would make a quick snack of them.
After a few days of this game I decide to let them be, they didn't seem all that interested in the veggies anyway (odd considering they have all but destroyed everything below the deck).
What is interesting...I believe they are there to visit, not eat. As we sit around the table on the deck the chickens move in close and lay down. Usually Salt leads the pack and Pepper and Little Red

are quick to follow. Laying out their wings and closing their eyes. They are completely comfortable with us, with the dogs, and the cats! It's a site I could not have imagined in a thousand years!
I told John "i think we have the strangest chickens in the world" to which he refuted "how many chickens do you know?". He's right, I don't know alot of chickens....but I know us. I know we have a tendency toward the strange and unusual in our house and I find
it incredibly entertaining to know that our chickens would rather

spend their free time sitting with us at the table then eating bugs in the yard. To the left you can see the dogs and chickens enjoying a snack of stale potato chips together. Everyone gets along well. Even Milly our "goat chasing dog" has no interest in catching a chicken and maneuvers around the chickens without so much as a blink of the eye in their direction.
Yesterday I noted Remi playing with Bella, jumping off the deck and realizing mid-air that he was about 2 seconds from landing on one of the chickens. How he managed to spring his body forward and miss landing on them I will never know...but I could tell by his movement that he was looking out for his chicken friends. He seems to love them as much as he loves Stanley his cat. He is careful to not step on them, he watches them in the yard and when they get away from each other he rounds them back up.
I often sit on the deck and watch everyone "grazing" in the yard together...wishing....if only everything in life was this simple!

Meeting Milly...Part 3: Milly

Meet Milly...previously known as Shelly a name she clearly didn't know from Adam...or Eve... or Fido...or Spot. Abi scoured the internet searching for the perfect dog name, finally settling on Milly or Mildred for short. Or is that Mildred...Milly for short. Either way, here she is. Milly is a 3 year old Jack Russell Terrier, from Anderson South Carolina, who was supposedly surrender for "chasing goats". Yes, that is exactly what her surrender paperwork said...CHASED GOATS. I was thinking Oh Shit. I know alot of Jacks can't go to homes with cats, nevermind a home with cats and chickens. I think we have just made a grave mistake. OK QUIT PANICKING! Lets see what happens before you freak out Karen!
Milly has continued to be as unimpressed by life now as she was that day in her crate surrounded by her hoppy (yes hoppy) crate mates! Aside from her jaunts on to the counter tops to see what treats the cats may have in their bowls...she has showed little interest in the cats, the chickens or the dogs.
I fear her original owner may have broke her spirit and honestly we have made it a mission to bring the "dog" in Milly back out. When she wags her nub I feel satisfaction knowing there is a dog in her somewhere. She rarely smiles...but does show interest in what Remi and Bella are up to. They run and play and she follows close by~but has yet to break down and join in the fun. I know she will eventually. You can tell she's thinking about it!
Anyway, this is Milly and I'm sure to have more on her in the weeks to come as we break the walls of silence that currently cage her. I can tell she has a heart of gold we just need to draw it out of her!

Meeting Milly...Part 2: Picking out a Dog

I can tell you right off, looking at puppies was not an option. Puppies will almost always find homes and I was not prepared to return to potty training, etc. Although...with an adult dog you run the risk of not having any control over your dogs personality or their current behaviors. Plus, as much as I hate to say it, alot of adult dogs are surrendered because their owners couldn't handle whatever quirks the dog had and decided to dump the dog rather than fix it~humans give up on their dogs much quicker than the dogs give up on the humans. So you are sort of left wondering what quirks you might be taking on. Regardless, we were there to look and save a dog... not look and fall in love with a puppy. Because yeah, yeah, all puppies are cute. We know.
After being allowed into the tent it was overwhelming. You really didn't even know where to go first, crate after crate was filled with dogs. Big dogs, furry dogs, skinny dogs, dogs giving puppy eyes, dogs hoping you wont see them and talk to them, dogs who couldn't stop barking, dogs who jumped, dogs who laid, purebreds, mixed muts, and hybrids I'm sure. Every single kind of dog you could imagine. Aside from an adult, we knew we would prefer a small female dog, but we weren't set on anything. When the kids suggested they wanted "this kind of dog or that" I would quickly remind them that we would get the dog that needed us. Its not like sitting at home thinking "i want a Labrador" and going to the store to pick one out.
Abi was fast to settle on Chelsea. Chelsea was a tiny little white jack Russell terrier, her name tag said she was 5 years old...and DEAF! Chelsea was endearing. She was small, she was quiet, she was covered in scars that told a less than pleasant past. We took out Chelsea's name tag and got in line to inquire about her (yes another line! can you believe it?) I told John as I stood there I kind of felt like I was wasting time just finding out how Chelsea could manage in our home with our dogs and kids~and I knew John was triple worried about a deaf dog in OUR house. He made his way out of the line and asked some of the nearby staff who explained Chelsea's inability to hear has caused her to scrap whenever she feels unsafe or violated. A simple sniff to Chelsea's hind-end leaves her feeling vulnerable and she is quick to retaliate. John explained to Abi that really Chelsea was not the right dog for us and Abi turned to me in line and shook her head "no".
After seeing her shake her head I exited the line knowing we again needed to begin our search for the "perfect" dog. There were alot of Jack Russells, a breed John has always wanted (yet I was never as convinced). There was one little female who barely moved..no matter how much you called to her. She laid there unimpressed by the throngs of people. She was not the cutest dog I had ever seen, and her lack of motivation had me somewhat concerned. The staff told John her name was Shelly and she got along great with other dogs. Apparently being crated with 6 other dogs did little to disrupt Shelly's life. John grabbed her name tag and again we made our way to the line. Abi was quick to remind me that "we would be all the way up there if you hadn't gotten out of line!" to which I replied... "Thank you smart one, I was not staying in line if we had not picked out a dog yet". While this line was much shorter than the first it seemed to last forever. After reaching yet another table a girl quickly ran through some questions to determine if we were qualified owners. A list of questions any seasoned liar could write off without much thought... They grabbed Shelly, gave us her paperwork, and we were FINALLY on our way back to Terrytown, USA. What a day.
After all that work we had no idea what we had just walked away with. Really, we had NO CLUE what we had just gotten ourselves into. But we both quickly dismissed our woes, and focused on the fact that we had just saved a dog that may have otherwise been killed for no good reason.

Meeting Milly...Part 1: The Wait

So on July 11, 2009 we thought we would kill some time by standing in line in North Haven for a whopping TWO AND A HALF HOURS for a chance to see the more than 400 cats, kittens, dogs and puppies who traveled from the kill shelters of the deep south to Connecticut in hopes of finding a new forever home! It was John's big idea to attend the event, even though I was sure the two dogs we currently owned were more than plenty.
After dusting off "Linda" and heading down the highway of life on our latest adventure we arrive in North Haven rather quickly. We find a parking spot in a flash and not far from where we spotted "the tent". The tent which housed all the animals that brought us here. After exiting the vehicle we realize that we are looking at the end of a line. Quickly we realize the end of that line is where we need to be. ARE YOU F'ing KIDDING ME?
Normally I wouldn't wait in a line this long for anything....not even for food if i hadn't eat in days! It was hot out, but honestly the breeze made it comfortable so the need to complain was quickly erased and I knew John wanted to be here so I bit my tongue about my anxiety and the need to run from this ridiculous line.
It was that kind of line where everyone is in a hurry to get to their destination now so they feel the need to stand REALLY close to the person in front of them, hoping this will teleport them to the front of the line...WHICH AS WE ALL KNOW IS NOT THE CASE!
After the first hour I was still holding my composure, yet talked very little for fear of accidentally engaging any nearby people into unnecessary conversation. Knowing it was going to be a long wait seems to prompt some people to get comfy with their neighbors quickly and they feel that insatiable need to make conversation...why are you here? how old are your kids, where are you from? how long have you been waiting?! or worse than questions...they want to tell you about themselves...and quite honestly, I don't really care to hear it (please excuse my candor but I was hear to look at dogs, not hear your life story and how many, what breed, and etc dogs you have owned)~
Anyway, my husband is a much nicer candidate for small talk than I am so I let him handle the dirty work as I stare endlessly at my feet, picking at the kids, quietly shooshing them to prevent any onlookers from judging their behavior and my ability to
do my job as a mom...because at the end of the day, that's really what its about. Isn't it?
By the end of the second hour and a bottle of water later I was growing VERY tired of being in that line, looking ahead I could tell there was approximately 40 to 50 people in front of us (most of which were families and would go into the tent toghether). I approximated our wait time at no more than 40 minutes...it was at this point..however I grew more anxious than I had been over 2 hours ago! I wanted to do an about-face and get the hell out of there. Our line neighbors were closer than ever and at this point his wife and granddaughter have joined him making my current conditions more uncomfortable. The more they inched up my back the more I felt the need to inch up on the couple in front of me~ even though i knew this would only cause the ass behind us to inch in closer causing me to be boxed in more than ever... PLEASE HELP ME I COULD SCREAM RIGHT NOW!!
I'm not claustrophobic but I do have a certain criteria for my personal space, and basically if you are not my husband, a good friend or family, or one of my children
you need to be a good foot from my body! I continue to stare at my feet and (more often) ahead in line just hoping to make it through this with every bit of my sanity intact.
AT LAST! We make it to the table...the table where you hand in your application, the table where the lady lets you by, the table of joy...our destination awaits... almost. We can glimpse some kittens just beyond the table inside the tent and we marvel at their cuteness, acting as if we have never before seen a kitten.
At this point in my story, if your just wishing I would GET TO THE POINT...then I have done my job in making you feel exactly how excrutiatingly impatient I was by the time we finally reached THE TABLE...

Things We Can Learn From Our Dogs....

Things We Can Learn from Our Dogs

Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joy ride.
Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure ecstasy.
When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by and nuzzle them gently.
When it's in your best interest, practice obedience.
Let others know when they've invaded your territory.
Take naps, and stretch before rising.
Run, romp and play daily.
Eat with gusto and enthusiasm.
Be loyal.
Never pretend to be something you're not.
If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
Thrive on attention, and let people touch you.
Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
On hot days, drink lots of water and Lie under a shady tree.
When you're happy, dance around And wag your entire body.
No matter how often you're scolded, don't buy into the guilt thing and pout
run right back and make friends.
Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.