The other day I wrote aboout Trampoline Man, the rooster my son found on his trampoline a few months ago. Trampoline Man is now the King of the Roost, having outlasted fifteen other contenders for that position.
A postscript to the story:
Two weeks ago Derek reported that a lone hen had found her way into his yard. His daughter Haley put the hen on the trampoline to keep her safe from their black Lab Jake, who was far too curious about the new visitor.
The next morning, the hen was clucking loudly so Haley went to check on her. She'd laid an egg on the trampoline. Scrambled eggs, anyone?
These are some of my hens, perfectly respectable ladies who know their place.
Where are the chickens coming from?
We have no idea, but apparently the trampoline is like an amusement park for poultry.
My hens know where to lay their eggs...except sometimes they miss the box. No one's perfect!
Sooo... if we put up a trampoline outside, we might get some free chickens? I might try that. LOL I miss having hens around.
ReplyDeleteAre they looking for their rooster? If so, I fear they are out of luck . . . he's probably quite content now with your ladies . . .
ReplyDeleteSusan, it hasn't been empirically tested of course. But it might be worth a try!
ReplyDeleteI think you may have something there, Mary. You're right, he's a contented man these days, very contented except when I devil him by crowing. He gets in an uproar then :-)
Well I wish some would wander into my yard! I've finally convinced hubby to let me have chickens-now I really don't know where to start-but it'd be nice if some just showed up : )
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