“Kill the Chicks! That’s it! Get it?” “You mean like we’re chick killers? Or like we kill the chicks?”
Dad turned around and said, “Out. Both of you, get out. Go find a name elsewhere.”
So they scrambled out, and the three of us sat in the car with only the gentle peep-peep-peep from my little flock breaking the silence.
Finally my mother heaved a heavy sigh and said, “They don’t cost much to keep, do they?”
My dad shook his head.They eat bugs, Trina. And a little feed. They’re very low-maintenance.
Bugs? Really? What sort of bugs?” “Earwigs, worms, roly-polys… probably spiders, if they can catch them.
I think they eat snails, too.” “Seriously?” My mother smiled. “Well, in that case…
Oh, thank you, Mom. Thank you!And that’s how we wound up with chickens.
What none of us thought of was that six chickens scratching for bugs not only gets rid of bugs, it also tears up grass.
Within six months there was nothing whatsoever left of our yard.
What we also didn’t think of was that chicken feed attracts mice, and mice attract cats. Feral cats.
Champ was pretty good at keeping the cats out of the yard, but they’d hang around the front yard or the side yard,
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