The big chickens certainly associate themselves with some strange looking birds. The garden has yet again been infested by two new fluffy deamons.
They both have two strange combs sprouting from their heads and constantly run at us with their fluffy beaks.
Bessie attempted a revenge attack but their fluffy shields are too powerful for us.
If I see them anywhere near our meal worms, it’s war for the fluffy intruders.
We are under attack!
Over the past week we have been at war with minature vampires!
The big chickens have tried to flush them out but the living dead just won’t die. Bruno has been crying and Bessie’s hair is not at it’s best.
Someone call 999, an excorcist, something!
Rid us of the red mite monsters!
Filed under: Captain Jack Sparrow | Tags: Bruno, Captain Jack Sparrow, chicken, Music, Rachmaninoff
I have discovered something delightful and even more fierce than this season’s Prada collection.
Yesterday, the big chicken brought a musical box into the coup. At first I thought it was just another one of Bruno’s fads but then, the subtle nuances of a noise they call Rachmaninoff began to play.
I have never felt such sheer pleasure.
The others are so common they spent the day screeching for Girls Aloud. But my ears have been forever changed.
Filed under: Bessie | Tags: Bessie, Bruno, Captain Jack Sparrow, chicken, Silkie, The Ram, worms
We’re from the countryside so we don’t understand all this city nonsense. Back where we came from, the biggest excitement is who has laid the best egg each day. Still, CJS and that foot feathered daemon, Bruno, say we have to post so we decided to give it a go together.
None of these new chickens look like us. We have fur and they have feathers and talk about how ‘hot’ their leg bands
Still, we like our new home. The big chickens treat us differently to our last big chickens. They were nice enough, but the new ones have told us about worms and they stroke our heads which makes us sleepy.
They say we have names now too – I’m called Bessie and she’s The Ram. I think we will be alright here as long as the others stop pecking us and bossing us around. We could certainly get used to this life.
Err, is it just me or are there less chickens living here now?
On Friday, I was gazing longingly at some new vegetables the big chickens had planted for us and I fell asleep. When I woke up, the boys had gone.
Bruno was moaning about it (as usual), thinking it was her fault for complaining about them. Me, I’m not too bothered – more food for me to eat.
Then, at the end of the day, these two fluffy strangers appeared. One of them was kind of mean to me but then CJS sorted them out. Now I think they’re alright and Oscar seems to have made friends with them too.
One of them looks like a cloud and says The Big Chickens call her Bessie and the other one is called The Ram. I like the cloud the best because she doesn’t like meal worms and gives hers to me.
I’ll let you know if they go weird or anything.
This morning we were awakened by a strange and unusual noise. In my state of half sleep, I struggled to position the source of the commotion, but slowly as my vision cleared I could see it was Fajhita.
The sheer volume of the squawk emulating from his beak was near on deafening – a bold and strong ‘cock-a-doodle-do’.
What truly perturbed me was some of the others reactions. Dave and CJS began puffing up their feathers and blushing, muttering to each other how handsome Fajhita is. All they have talked about recently is their first egg, when it will come and how they will feel like true hens.
I don’t understand why things have to change? I want to stay young and free to scratch around in the wood chip. I don’t even care if my foot feathers get dirty. These days I’ve been thinking it’s not so bad to be small.
I want to stay young forever and I don’t want to talk to stupid boys.
Is it just me or does food taste nicer when it’s multicoloured?
The big chicken weirds me out sometimes. Stewy and I were chowing down on some flowery food the big ones had planted for us but, for some reason, they did not look happy.
Why would they grow such delicious delights if it is not to satisfy our appetites?
Stewy was so angry after getting told off she totally trashed the coup – all this anger for an afternoon snack.
Life is hard when you’re a chicken.