I finally tackled a long overdue weeding of the garlic and basil beds yesterday, both of which are located only a few yards from the chicken coop and pen.
As I got down to work at about 3 p.m., the older hens (and pecking-order queens) Snow and Nala set to squawking in an obvious attempt to get my attention, while newcomers Hope and Nellie looked on expectantly. “The girls” clearly believe that any human who comes within their field of vision must be armed with snacks and treats. That is, after all, why humans exist.
Imagine their dismay, then, when I ignored the noisy pleas and continued weeding. Snow and Nala cried even louder in the face of this outrage. Their complaints continued for half an hour or so, before they finally concluded that the early onset of senility must have left me clueless as to my proper role.
Today, weather permitting, I’ll tackle the potato bed, which is even closer to the chickens’ run. Maybe I should wear sound-deadening ear muffs, to protect what little hearing I have left after yesterday's excursion.
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