The sun is peeking through the clouds, and today's forecast calls for temps in the 40s here in central Maine. As far as our tiny flock is concerned, that can only mean one thing: happy hens.
When the weather turns nasty, as it did during yesterday’s seemingly endless rainfall, I cover the chickens’ pen with a tarp, as I do when we’re in for a light snowfall as well. If heavy snow is in the offing, I drape additional tarps along two sides of the pen, to keep the snow from blowing in and to make cleanup somewhat easier once the storm has passed.
These alterations help keep our four hens dry. But it’s clear they resent being closed in, even by a lone tarp atop the pen, as was the case yesterday. So I was not at all surprised by the reaction I got this morning when I yanked the tarp from the pen and folded it up.
The hens peered up at the sky, which I’m sure they enjoy doing as much as we do. Light poured into the pen, not just from the already-open sides but through the top as well. And “the girls” offered their usual display of gratitude, examining their surroundings with renewed interest and flapping their wings, as if they had been paroled after an unpleasant stay in jail.
Some might think ascribing such thoughts to chickens is anthropomorphizing. I disagree. When we view the animal world with empathy, we can see it much more clearly.
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