Sunday, January 30, 2011

How could I have been so wrong?

At one time I wrongly accused, tried, and convicted Kid, the cat, of a very serious crime. 
You can get the details here:  Drat!

Saturday, Kid showed me how far off I was in this accusation.

I went out to throw the chickens some snacks, and as usual, called them up with - Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty.  You can fill in on those details here:  Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty

Well, when you give this shout you will have a herd of chickens and the cat headed in your direction.  At times, you will even have a horse come galloping in to see what is on the buffet.  It really is quite a sight.  The buffet on this particular day included blueberry muffins that I was tearing into small pieces. 

Why blueberry muffins? 

The Man in Charge is working on a new recipe for blueberry muffins and this batch did not make the final cut.  There are only so many muffins that we can eat, and the chickens get to benefit from the extras.

So, as everyone gathered around, I started throwing out their snacks.  I usually try to make sure that everyone gets something, which is a lot easier to type than it is to actually do.  Chickens are mean and you can tell which ones are at the top of the pecking order.  The funny thing is that one of my older hens has really got it figured out.  As I throw bits and pieces out and around so that everyone has a fighting chance to get a morsel, she stays at my feet and devours the crumbs that I drop.  Her behavior isn't a fluke either.  It is every time.  The girl knows how to work the system, and as of today, no one else has figured it out. 

As all of this is taking place, I noticed something peculiar happening.  Kid had come up, but was out away from me in the middle of the pack.  He wasn't really impressed with the blueberry muffins, and was looking around wondering why I never bring out tuna muffins.  At this moment, a hen - a young, small hen - took off after him.  He easily outweighs her, but he ran anyway.  She was in hot pursuit, and when they reached the side of the barn, he actually cowered down against the wall, looking up at her in a very submissive way. 

How could I have ever thought he would have killed one of them?  He thinks he is one of them.

I have a witness to this behaviour, because the Man in Charge was standing at the fence nearby, and finally ran the hen off so that Kid could get up and get away.  I felt really bad all over again.

Poor Cat!

Today when I went out to throw them snacks, it all started out the same, except for two changes.

1.  My mare came up and stood at my shoulder watching the chaos.  She wasn't interested in the bread crumbs or the golden raisins, but was doing her best to look pathetic so she might get a little hay for herself.

This ploy worked well for her.

2.  Kid came up and stayed right behind me.  The older hen had assumed her position in front of me, and she was scarfing up all of the crumbs that were falling her way.  He was behind me, and I was dropping bread to him one piece at a time, and he was eating it.

At one point, a small hen came up near him as if she were going to take his bread and out of the corner of my eye, I see him raise one paw in the air.  As if to say, "I don't think so, chick!" She slowly backed away.

Is it wrong to be proud of him? 

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