Friday, September 16, 2016

"the wall" fall post-snore

Ow. I awoke with an aching, feeling-bruised body from my (to me) epic fall through "the wall" of chicken pen fencing that keeps the dystopia-inducing chickens from destroying anything organic less than tough wood any chance they can. 

thewife showed me techniques to get them to voluntarily return from a sudden dash to garden destroying frenzy freedom using a combination of finger clicks and an enticing spray of grain ejaculated across their dusty, post-apocalyptic wasteland of a yard, food that will offer instant gratification. Then, when they dash in to start madly pecking at that, close the fence off behind them. 

She showed me in action; she was like a Barbara Woodhouse for chickens, or a Steve Irwin for not-stingrays.

So that's good to know for future escapes that with finger snaps and guile I can guide them in and I need not risk a physical pick up then drop over of a fat chicken that could lead to another fall through "the wall".

Poor Mikey body. He hates it when it hurts more than it has to; hates it

(gulps nastily).

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