Chooks are fine thanks muchly

A REQUEST was delivered this week for an update on our chooks.

Yep, they're fine thanks.

Oh, by the way, we're OK, too.

Never ceases to amaze me how many people are fascinated by those chooks.

Fair bet if the bloke who sold them to us at the Castlemaine market that day had known of their pending popularity, he might have tacked a few more dollars to the price tag .

Those chooks remain a great source of amusement at our place.

Take the other morning when there was a hell of a racket going on outside the bathroom window.

One of the chooks was squawking like there was no tomorrow.

The carry on certainly got our attention as we thought there was something seriously wrong.

No. Nothing wrong. Just a difference of opinion, if you will.

You see one chook had decided it was time to head around the front for a morning of leisurely rummaging and scratching.

Unfortunately, the other one had decided such activities were best had at the back of the house and headed in that direction.

So, what do you do when you don't get your way?

Stand where you are and squawk your heart out, of course.

Squawk and squawk and squawk and squawk... squawk until you've woken up the household and, well, anyone in a two kilometre radius I suspect.

Amazingly, it worked. It seems the other chook felt sorry for us or couldn't cop the noise either and relented to the front of the house.

Thankfully, peace and the morning serenity was quickly restored.

That amazing perception they have for scraps continues to make you laugh every time.

They can be anywhere on the property, anywhere, but if you walk on the verandah and throw some scraps over the side, it's like they have access to warp speed... vroooooooom, they're there. Quick feed... vroooooooom... they're gone.

Speaking of the front verandah, another great source of amusement for me is watching my wife hunt them off there with a broom.

Never ceases to amaze me how many people are fascinated by those chooks.

You would think by now they would have learned that climbing the steps onto that verandah is most certainly out of bounds.

Nup. How often we walk into the kitchen only to see a chook standing at the glass door peering in with a face that leaves you in no doubt as to what's on its mind... got any scraps?

The scene usually then plays out like this... wife grabs broom, chook back pedals, door flies open, wife yells, chook scampers, wife chases along verandah, Rod laughs loudly (until wife turns around, of course), wife complains about the chook poo on deck... Rod retreats.

Maybe they'll learn one day. Hmmmm, actually, hope not... too funny.

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