She's embracing the sustainable life, and I admit I like the idea of knowing where my eggs came from and what the chicken, sitting on my plate, consumed during its lifetime. And, she's taking the smart approach. She has been reading up, doing the research, and asking the appropriate questions. I, on the other hand, have been choosing chickens based on looks. Yep. I'm superficial... About my poultry.
So, the other day we decided to stop by a local farm supply store and check out what we would need and what types of chickens they offer.
This sleepy chicken greeted us in the parking lot. Actually, it didn't really greet us. It just sat there, by a palette, and slept. But, it was the first sign of poultry that we saw.
Then this chicken came strolling by - proud and indifferent. I like the looks of this kind of chicken. I added it to my chicken list. I'm a fan of indifference, especially when that indifferent animal is going to end up being a meal. This works for me.
These two birds pushed past my chicken and strutted like beauty queens on a runway. I decided their over-eagerness to groove like Jagger was a sure sign these chickens were not for me.
So we headed inside the store and gravitated by the constant sound of cheeps. I discover these little ones and immediately fell in love. I want them all. They were so fluffy and cute. The only problem is they won't stay that fluffy and cute for long. I decided to pull myself away before I grew too attached.
Naughty Pixie wants several of these prancing around our back garden too. My Grams Pixie was not a fan of turkeys, but she did have them. She liked the double breasted kind and I have a vivid memory of her turkeys walking around her yard - the stark white glaring against the pristine green of the grass in her yard. I couldn't be more then 5 years old at the time. But, I've agreed to the turkeys on the same principle as the chickens.
Then there was this guy. A little bantam rooster who was bat-crap crazy. We're talking a psychopath of the poultry word. It was doing this weird barking crow at everything and everyone.
It even started doing that weird barking crow at his own shadow. It would hop up and down from the top of the wooden barrier to the grass, then hop back and forth like a boxer. I could swear it even bobbed and weaved at one point. I realized I needed to back away very slowly (though I couldn't help but laugh).
But they also had pheasants, ginny hens, and a bunch of other birds-of-a-feather.
But Naughty Pixie drifted over to the sweet donkey watching us, and I knew we were in trouble. Our back garden doesn't have enough room for a donkey.
Nor does it have room for the two alpacas Wicked Pixie was wanting to take home.
We didn't end up bringing home any chickens, chicks, turkeys, donkeys, alpacas, or psychotic roosters. But, I have a feeling a chicken coup is in my future. Good grief!