I am growing increasingly worried about my reputation in the neighborhood. You see, I love my chickens. I love to love on my chickens. Every day, when I think the neighbors are otherwise occupied, I sneak out to the coop and give my girls a little attention, because, you know, these feathered fowl are more than just birds. They are pets. Hilariously entertaining and affectionate pets. My girls and my fondness for them are becoming more and more difficult to hide. What must the neighbors think?
Just last week when all was quiet, I took a little watermelon treat out to the chickens. No trip to the coop is complete without a little interaction. Lost in love was I until I looked up and discovered two men, who had been burying a cable next door, staring silent and in awe at the crazy suburban lady talking to her birds. Busted.
Crazy chicken lady.
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