Roost in the trees. Not just roost but roost very high up. And they won't come down or go back into the coop despite begging on my part. Despite me playing chicken pinata with the broom to get them down. Dumbest creatures I've met. Of course they are probably saying the same thing about me. This is Chipmunk. She's a dog. No really. She may look like a chicken but she's a dog. I'm sure of it. Follows us around the yard, likes to sit in our laps and talks to us constantly.
Notice how high up Rosie is. Amidst the poison ivy and vines and at least six feet over my head. No chance of anyone capturing her. She clucked (read laughed here) all afternoon at me.
Then she called all of her friends and made them laugh at me too.
And Raisin came to see what the excitement was.
Rum joined them after her egg laying was done.
And Cotton, the very cranky Rooster stood guard down below causing a ruckus because he couldn't reach his girls and they weren't listening to him. I know the feeling Cotton, I know the feeling!
This is a bucket O' chicken. Babies. Eight weeks old now. And have been mingling with the big girls during the day without too much incidence.
I do have my favorite babies though. Like this White Rock. She doesn't have a name. Still.