Discovering my inner farm girl

Thursday, February 13, 2014

One Night with the Chickens

Last night while everyone was getting pajamas on and heading off to bed, I went to tuck in the chickens and check for eggs.  The handle on our coop door is broken and when you turn the handle nothing happens, but it's hard to get it to latch so I have been ignoring it.  I gently pulled the door behind me, but between prying it open and changes in weather it must have loosened up, because the door shut behind me.  I tried the broken handle until it fell off, I tried kicking the door (ouch), I made tons of noise and screamed for help.........nothing worked!  I stood at the door looking out the Plexiglass window and pictured myself busting through it with a cinder block.  I imagined all the lights in my house going out and being stuck in there all night.  Would the chickens peck my eyes out as I slept in the mixture of straw and poop?  Could I fit through the small chicken door covered in droppings?  Is that mouse still in here?!? I turned around and saw the chickens surrounding me and I was sure they were just waiting to attack. If they are willing to eat their own, they would definitely do the same to me. Attack of the Killer Chickens! At that point I started to get a little panicked and I shined the flashlight through the small chicken door in hopes someone would walk by and see it.  Finally, my hero, Seth, opened the sliding glass door and I screamed, "I'm stuck, go get dad!".  I watched the kids run back and forth in the house trying to find my husband who was out in the garage.  I screamed some more, because I don't think they really understood the danger I was in, stuck in there with cannibal chickens waiting to pounce.  I looked out and saw a tall, dark figure moving towards me, my man, coming to rescue me from demon chickens (or at least toxic fumes).  I got out of there with no injuries, except my back ache from kicking the door.  I did, however, have some foul smelling poo on me from getting down on my hands and knees to yell for my life.  The moral of the story is, don't ignore broken door handles and never go anywhere without your cellphone.  Pictured below are the evil chickens.  Vicious, foul beasts. (Not really, I love my chickens!) 

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