continued from the previous post: SPRING ROBINS
People ask me how we can tell Lucy and Pigeon apart.
Well, their feathers are the same, but the rest is totally different.
Pigeon's got a goofy expression on her face.
And you'll never see her just walking.
Lucy is slow as molasses.
Their conversations :
Pigeon ends every word with an exclamation point, while Lucy moans and laments.
I guess if I had 50 Barred Rocks, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart, let alone know them as individuals.
But with only two, the differences are like night and day.
In Sy Montgomery's new book, Birdology,
she talks about a study that was conducted to see how chickens tell each other apart.
Scientists took a flock of chickens of a single breed and painted their feathers different colors, and the chickens still recognized their friends and flockmates.
But then they put little hats over their combs, and the chickens couldn't figure out who was who.
When my husband hangs out with the hens on weekend mornings, they all look up at his face, recognizing him as The Raisin Man.
..or The Breadcrust Man, or The Leftover Corn Man.
. . . . . . . . . . . . .
The little gals, Daisy and Fern, are beginning to recognize me.
Until recently, I was just THE HAND to them.
Now Fern sees me as a comforting caretaker.
Daisy still has a bit of trouble with that concept.
Daisy also has trouble understanding that those beautiful hens sauntering around the yard just might want to kill her.
. . . . . . .Next post: BECOMING A CHICKEN