“Come and listen to my story ’bout a man named Tony. He had a little chicken who had gotten rather boney. But she heard she was movin’ to some digs out in the woods, so she gobbled up some groceries and was lookin’ pretty good.”
Just strap a rocking chair to the top of the cab, and we’re ready to move to Beverly. . .Hills that is.
I kid you not, this chicken was on death’s door just a week before we moved. Now her comb is upright and red, and she has gotten dowright sassy.
While Tony was building her new pen, she had to live in the back of the truck. It didn’t hurt her any.
And now she has a bigger area in which to scratch and cluck and generally be a hen–same as me. 🙂
We are here and happy as pigs in slop. . .or chickens in a new pen. . .but shortly after we moved in the kids came down with a viral fever. Victoria was sick from Thursday through Sunday, and Thad was sick from Monday through Friday. I thought I was coming down with it too, but a 6 hour nap yesterday seemed to have helped things all around.