Damn fine photo though. Cats and Pigs living together. Surely a sign of the Apocalypse.. but freaking adorable.
Anyway, that’s not why I am writing today. I want to tell you about the general dumbness of chickens.
Now. Now. Before you get all your feathers in a… in a… umm? Knot? What do you do with feathers…? Get them all woven?
Ya know, that’s not the point here. Chickens have tiny little brains. They aren’t as stupid as goldfish. They aren’t as stupid as goldfish. I wrote that twice because the goldfish supposedly forget everything every second.
Our chickens, in particular our two Buff Orpingtons (who are neither very buff nor very orpington) are in brooding mode. That’s where a chicken sits in its nest and tries to keep an egg warm until it hatches… sort of like a Republican and a tax plan.
Here’s the first clue to Chicken Stupidity: We don’t have a rooster. You need to have the egg fertilized by a rooster. No sperm. No chickies. (Hey, that’s the issue I have as I get older…but perhaps… I digress.) These eggs are just for making omelets.
Here’s the second clue to Chicken Stupidity: Sometimes they don’t even sit on an egg. They just sit in the nest and get all pissy if you try to move them.
I forcefully take them out of the nesting boxes and they squawk and nip but then I remind them that I actually climbed to the top of the food chain.
So yesterday afternoon, after expelling them from the premises and making them go outside to get a little sun, I placed small paint cans in all of the nesting boxes. This was done to create…
The third clue to Chicken Stupidity: The two buffs came back in. One pinched itself in next to a paint can and wrapped a wing around it. The other stood outside the nest and just stared and stared at the paint can.
They aren’t as stupid as goldfish. They aren’t as stupid as goldfish.
I tried to explain to them that you can’t hatch a paint can…without a rooster in overalls.
By the way, my paint omelet was delicious.