We established, a few years back, that our chickens are organized. Smart. I have seen them meet behind the chicken coop with white boards, charts, and graphs. Even though their numbers have dwindled, we all know what they are capable of. Now, I fear they are scheming and planning, once again.
I write this edition… of Kid Wednesday…. from my cell phone…. cowering in a corner of the dark garage, just a couple feet away from the baby chicks’ pen. I suspect Dorothy and Flo are not happy about the arrival of the wee ones. Our internet signal went out just moments ago. It is quiet. Too quiet.
Earlier today… I found a note. “If you ever want breakfast eggs again, you will get rid of those little peeps.” It was barely legible. Like chicken scratches. Just moments ago, I heard noises …. just outside the garage door. It sounded oddly like someone stirring cookie dough. I cannot imagine what they might be up….. ….. …… ….
