If you’re not scratching for food or running from predators intent on having chicken for dinner, you’re stuck in a coop or enduring the elements.
During a ferocious downpour just a while ago, the poor chickens had to take what little cover they could get from the ramp that leads into their coop. Yes, they could have gone into the coop, but only one hen chose the easy way out.
Until just before I snapped this photo, T. Boone Chickens, my fearless rooster, was standing in the downpour at the edge of the run guarding both flocks—the older hens you see here and the six baby chicks that are in a parallel run. T. Boone spends the better part of his days eyeballing the two groups of girls.
He takes his job very seriously. Really, it’s rather endearing. Even Harry and Ben, who usually only have mean things to say about T. Boone because of his, uh, technique with the hens, grudgingly admit that he is making an effort to be useful.
The baby chicks are growing quickly. I’ll be doing another photo shoot of the glamour girls soon to show how their fancy head feathers are coming in. Until then…