Two Weeks and a New Dog


Okay, okay, I don’t want to mislead you …

(Oh yes you do! There is no new dog. That title is reprehensible. The worst sort of tabloid headline.)

Well, let me put it this way… this dog is so many shades lighter and less hairy than the one I delivered to the groomer this morning, that one might THINK it’s a new dog.


(Then remove that misleading title!)


(Why not?)

I like it.

(You have no journalistic ethics.)

Yeah, and I don’t have a PRESS badge either, so get off my case.


Today the chicks are two weeks old.

How did that happen?

two week1


two week2


Here’s number one right after hatching…



Crazy eh?

Lydia is feeling a bit cramped in the grow out pen, so I let them all out into the chicken run today. The head hen came right over and pecked Lydia on the neck, just to remind her that she is still number three in the pecking order. And she was very interested in the chicks, but when she got too close they ran away, which seemed to be all she wanted. Just so she knows they fear her I guess. I couldn’t take the anxiety for long though, and I put them back in the pen.  But at some point, we will have to take the plunge and include them into the flock. In my mind that is later rather than sooner.

I need some kind of brainstorm to make a larger area for Lydia and brood.

I’m working on it.

I think my fear of them getting hurt is messing with my creative juices.

I’ll work on that too….

(Yes, yes, you’re very busy. And you are a pulp journalist. Don’t forget it.)

And you sir are a pain in the arse.