. . . and chickens are the best neighbors in the whole world.
I finally met Cora, the new girl. She looks a lot like a half-size version of Lucille, the hen who turned out to be a rooster and so had to move. Cora has that same pretty color in her feathers that matches the reddish blond color of Rusty's fur. Cora is pretty shy, but she was polite and all before she ran away. She did finally come outside the coop with Mabel and the Friedas, so she must be feeling more at home.
In the meantime, the other chickens act like they like me a lot more now that Lucille is not around. I finally, sort of, found out the name for Frieda II, the twin of Frieda the First. It's Henrietta, if I understood correctly. (That bubble talk they do is still hard for me to understand sometimes.) If it's not Henrietta, it's still a kind of old-fashioned name that sounds like it could belong to a girl student at Hogwart's.
Rusty met them, too. He's having a weekend sleepover here. He thought the chickens were nice but was otherwise uninterested in getting to know them better. He does understand better about my job, though. BeBe tried to get him to play race, her favorite game, but he said he needed to take a nap. I don't know if he didn't want to embarrass her or was afraid to be embarrassed. Maybe he just doesn't like to run any more. Or maybe he really needed a nap. He took over 90 percent of the entire bed last night -- my mom and I had to arrange ourselves like uncooked spaghetti noodles to fit in the space that was left -- and perhaps he mostly stayed awake to guard his snoozy territory.
Guarding Freerangers is the best job . . .
- Lizbit
- Four-Footer
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- tlynn78
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Re: Guarding Freerangers is the best job . . .
Lizbit wrote:. . . and chickens are the best neighbors in the whole world.
I finally met Cora, the new girl. She looks a lot like a half-size version of Lucille, the hen who turned out to be a rooster and so had to move. Cora has that same pretty color in her feathers that matches the reddish blond color of Rusty's fur. Cora is pretty shy, but she was polite and all before she ran away. She did finally come outside the coop with Mabel and the Friedas, so she must be feeling more at home.
In the meantime, the other chickens act like they like me a lot more now that Lucille is not around. I finally, sort of, found out the name for Frieda II, the twin of Frieda the First. It's Henrietta, if I understood correctly. (That bubble talk they do is still hard for me to understand sometimes.) If it's not Henrietta, it's still a kind of old-fashioned name that sounds like it could belong to a girl student at Hogwart's.
Rusty met them, too. He's having a weekend sleepover here. He thought the chickens were nice but was otherwise uninterested in getting to know them better. He does understand better about my job, though. BeBe tried to get him to play race, her favorite game, but he said he needed to take a nap. I don't know if he didn't want to embarrass her or was afraid to be embarrassed. Maybe he just doesn't like to run any more. Or maybe he really needed a nap. He took over 90 percent of the entire bed last night -- my mom and I had to arrange ourselves like uncooked spaghetti noodles to fit in the space that was left -- and perhaps he mostly stayed awake to guard his snoozy territory.
When reality requires approval, control replaces truth.
To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead. -Thomas Paine
You can ignore reality, but you can't ignore the consequences of ignoring reality. -Ayn Rand
Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities. -Voltaire
To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead. -Thomas Paine
You can ignore reality, but you can't ignore the consequences of ignoring reality. -Ayn Rand
Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities. -Voltaire