"Bl***dy pesky chooks!" is frequently heard at our place, usually from me at the kitchen window. Every morning and afternoon they make their way to the verandah, scratching up the flower beds on the way and covering the paths with mulch and poo. If the dogs are about, the chooks persecute them, nipping their ankles til they leave, then eat any biscuits left in the bowls, drink their water and do some more pooing. I am constantly scrubbing it off. Yuk. It is certainly a chore I could do without.
Still, I love them. Their antics are endlessly entertaining and their clucking and crowing and the very look of them fossicking about is charming. The eggs are a world away from those you get from the supermarket - the whites actually keep their shape. And they are very easy to keep. Here's a photo of Miss Gosling helping clean their house out.
The kids must love them. My grandma used to have chooks, and lambs, and goats and I have some great photos with them from the time I was little.
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