So finally my lackadaisical, falling down, chicken shade cloth came to a bitter end of basically being a pain in my ass every time I went to feed the chickens, gather eggs, or really just do anything there. Coincidentally, the exact same morning that I decided to get my act together and do something about was the same morning that the three new, littler, and more spry of the chicken clan escaped due to poor upkeep. In any case, with the fantastic help of my brother, we cranked out a framed up, nearly perfected proper chicken aviary with a human sized door, compost access hatch, and no way for those damned sparrows to highjack precious pounds of lay crumble feed that costs way more than it feels it is worth. Here are the results…
Ironically, the chickens have repaid this fabulous favor of a wondrous home, with a collective molting, meaning feathers everywhere, an egg strike, and general grumpiness. Seriously chickens.
I came across this newsworthy chicken tidbit this morning while perusing the Arizona Republic’s section “Photos of the Day”.
According to the AP’s caption, this being the day before Yom Kippur (aka the Jewish Day of Atonement), it is tradition among Ultra-Orthodox Jews to transfer one’s sins to that of a chicken. Now, I couldn’t find anything on Wikipedia (the all knowing truth-sayer of our times), that specifically discussed the use of chickens as sacrifices for one’s sin (bulls, goats, and rams definitely, as well as four different garment changes), so I can only assume that chickens are easier to hold up for AP photo shots, cheaper in our ruined economy, and certainly more plentiful than their larger livestock brethren. Nonetheless, my chickens have a few things they would like to say:
1. Hands off chickens! We have enough problems as it is.
2. Chickens have done nothing to deserve the guilt and responsibilty that goes along with human sin. Deal with it yourselves!
3. If you are going to kill our distant jungle fowl cousins, you better damn well be eating the meat and not just letting it rot on some altar somewhere. We didn’t eat processed corn feed for 8-10 weeks to get fat, juicy, and delicious just so our fleshy goodness could go to waste.