Today Zelda brought Kamen and the Mini-bots outside for their first independent excursion.
If you are wondering... yes, chicas make it even harder to be domestically responsible. It's possible that I sat with them for thirty minutes, utterly neglecting dirty dishes and dust bunnies, all so I could coo and sigh at their adorableness. Forgive me. I am weak.
Now they are eleven days old, they are intrepid adventurers. Have you ever contemplated a chicken's vision? Zelda has incredible eyesight. Without breaking her rhythm, Zelda scratches the earth, dancing, strictly ballroom, and then she snatches small bugs, tiny worms... the chicks spy the treasures too and move in to receive their share. To my eyes it's just flying dirt and ridiculous feathers flapping aimlessly, but after thirty minutes or more, watching her... I came to realize that she is systematic and exact, and she is teaching her young ones to be the same.
While Zelda had her outing with Kamen and the Mini-Bots, Lady Betty Orpington, Puff, Zoltar and
Hello, you precious little Mini-Bot.
Who's your daddy?
Your guess is as good as mine. Eggs were deposited in the nest by Zelda, and Puff. Hens were "loved" by two roosters. Zoltar: small, handsome, cocky little dude. And the rooster we named Tesla when he was wee and we hoped a hen. Now Tesla has been re-named... he is Edison. (We are not enamored of Thomas Alva Edison, his ethics, morals, and actions. In spite of all he managed to accomplish, I find him a disgraceful character, and sorely lacking in many critical respects.) Our Edison: a massive, disfigured, and extremely mean rooster, alive because I have not killed him, yet.
Oh, you can crow, Zoltar. You can cock-a-doodle-do all you like, but it doesn't prove a thing!
I do hope that Zoltar is the papa of Kamen and the Mini-Bots. Otherwise we have this to contemplate, and he is a most foul bird. He is hard to photograph... all that dark plumage and constant shuffling. He is trying to position himself to spur your thighs.
Also, his head sits far to the right of center. It rests atop his right shoulder. He has chicken scoliosis. A well meaning acquaintance suggested I bring him to her chiropractor... 'he sees horses." I smiled politely, but frankly I would sooner show him to a soup pot than a physician.
My dear Mister Edison,
If you will muster all your brain cells, you will recall that we have loved you, adored you, sheltered you, and we have made countless allowances for your limited capacity to comprehend your circumstances. All to no avail. You are a twit, Edison. And when you started removing flesh from my legs, I resolved not be burdened by any false sense of loyalty to your fowl life. Take care, and beware.
Well, Zoltar. I guess that leaves you.
Be a good papa, Zoltar. Help keep an eye sharp for hawks, rats, cats, and snakes. Find worms. Clear a space on the roost. Show those young ones where the best dusting spots are, and how to hop a fence. Zelda deserves a little break, so can't you step in and do your share?
Get back here!