This is my blog about the day to day lives of my little flock of pet chickens. They're a happy little flock, although they're totally crackers! If you want a laugh, they'll gladly give you one.


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Monday, 16 January 2012

Animal crackpots

It seems that our little neighbourhood is the type that attracts animal oddballs. 
I’ve become used to the idea that I own a chicken who hates laying eggs, but recently I met another nonconformist.   He’s our new neighbours’ absolutely gorgeous Border Collie.   He’s the kind you see at Sheepdog Trials, running round making sure that the sheep end up exactly where the shepherd wants them.  Not this one though.   Here we have sheepdog who is scared of sheep!  That's why the farmer had to find a new home for him.

We live in a rural village, so when he’s taken for a walk, you can guarantee he will encounter sheep at some point - the first field he walks past, to be precise.   So what does he do?  He turns his head away and refuses to look at them.   If he can’t see them, they’re not there and so he has nothing to be afraid of.   Makes sense to me.

This sheepdog has the right idea, although the sheep look rather surprised!

Then we have the tern who thinks he’s a crow.   He and his mates spend a lot of time in the field behind my garden, so I often see him.   The crows potter round the field, checking it out for any edible bits and pieces (although I shudder to think what it is they actually find to eat).  Pottering round with them you will usually see a solitary tern.   When they gather on the dead oak for a chat, there he is again.   When they fly off, so does he.

Some years ago, when I was living abroad, I went to the local RSPCA-type place to see if they had a cat.  I came away with a calf.   As I explained to the family when I got home - they both began with a "c" so what did it matter?

I had to hand-rear our week-old acquisition and, as a result, she followed me all over the place.  Most afternoons I went for a walk down to the river that flowed through the property.  The dogs and cat used to come with me, and the calf brought up the rear.   I'd sit down to quietly watch the local birdlife; the calf thought this was an invitation for her to lie down beside me and put her head in my lap.   I hadn't the heart to tell her that cows don't do that.

Over the years, I've cared for a variety of rescued birds and animals, many of whom seemed blissfully unaware of normal behaviour for their type.  Well …. it wouldn’t do for us all to be the same, would it.

Picture by C. MacMillan

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