Fowl Suicide

This winter was our coldest, longest, iciest in my memory. Burrrrr!!

A bright spot came in the form of three fat white chickens. They appeared one day in early December and pecked in our side yard beyond the fence where small patches of earth appeared in occasional melts.  We live in a rural-ish part of town.

The chickens have been a delight to watch. Our dogs have spent nearly 4 months now barking and pouncing and leaping at the “chicken show”.  Sadly, over time only two chickens came back, then one, then a new, dark chicken appeared.

The dark chicken has been the only little visitor of late. She hung around our side yard for days on end with occasional forays into the front yard.

That is until yesterday. Apparently she was depressed, but not too knackered to fly over our fence and into our yard.  My Olive was elated to finally play with her feathered friend.

It did not end well.  I will miss that chicken.

via Daily Prompt:  Knackered

The Daily

Chair ebbs and tides in all the right places.

Same with those beloved faces.

Muddy paw prints when it rains.

Musky smell of fur remains.

Grass and flower and leaf and weed.

Birds now land to peck at seed.

No grand unveiling finds today.

Just life loved in the ordinary way.

Photo by Tom Gill

via Daily Prompt:  Ordinary

See: Dogs

via Daily Prompt:  Aware

This week, Eddie and Olive are joined by Gob (yes, named after Gob in Arrested Development). The three large mixed-breeds prance, bark, chase. They are mostly outside until bed time, perched anywhere that allows them to see in. They are aware of my every move.

Look! She’s standing at the kitchen sink! Hey! She’s by the sliding glass door! Hey, Man! Sounds like the treat jar!

I will never command a more captive audience than the 12-legged posse in my backyard.

 

 

 

DP: Primal Olive

My Olive is a fetching mixed-breed, “junkyard dog”.  Of the dogs I’ve loved, she reigns as queen of scent.

Olive as a puppy.
Olive as a puppy.

She invites the eye to witness nostrils’ draw, a primal sift of molecules suspended in air.  Head steered by nose, body pulled by head, closer still in the carefully timed advance.  A joyous pounce on prey in the playful dance of death.

Squirrel, mouse, or bird acts its part.  Feigning death to bargain final escape, the prostrate prey is under a watchful eye.

A terrifying and fascinating  horror plays out in my backyard.

 

 

 

via Daily Prompt