For those of you (and all 2 of you know who you are) that are not on Facebook, you get little “Like” buttons you can click when someone says something you like. There’s no “dislike”, but there should be. Anyway I’ve noticed that when I read a blog or am listening to people talk I now have this deep urge to click that button.
Today is a “dislike” day.
While I was in the shower Oona crawled halfway into the litter box and made it her personal sand box. Nothing like getting out of the shower and being greeted by that.
Once I cleaned her up and went downstairs I found a nice puddle of dog pee on the dining room floor. She’s *this close* to becoming an outside dog.
ALL of the Barred Rock hens I got last month are actually roosters. They were 17 weeks old when I bought them, which means that all of their rooster-y qualitites should have been apparent by then. Not one looked the least bit boyish. No pointy feathers. No enlarged combs or wattles. No crowing. Yet here we are. Must be something in my water causing them all to spontaneously change genders.
This means I have 7 roosters and 6 hens. That is such a bad ratio I can’t even tell you. It should be more like 1 rooster for every 10 to 12 hens. No wonder I’ve got no eggs.
I’m going to have to post those boys on craigslist and hope someone takes them; otherwise it’s the stew pot. Then I need to find me a bunch of actual female chickens.
You wouldn’t think it would be so hard, would ya?