Chook Chore

Dear Mike,

Thank you for cleaning out our Chook-house today.  It really was getting a bit fragrant in there at night, and things should smell a lot better now that you've cleaned and aired the house and put in clean wood-shavings.

We're especially grateful that you didn't leave the job too long.  When you do neglect our bird-brained needs, the mite population starts to build up to quite alarming proportions.  As you know they suck our blood, and can make us quite anemic.  Our young chicks, especially, are vulnerable to those menaces.  Also, you then have a much longer, harder job of cleaning, since the best way to rid the house of mites is to flame the interior thoroughly with your blowtorch.  Thank you, though, for finding a way to deal with bugs that does not involve poisons on our roosts and laying boxes.  We think it is much more effective, too.

You really ought to get around to making some changes to the Chook-house to make your life easier.  Replace that stupid little flap on the side with something you can open right up -- have the entire side of the house open so that its easier for you to get in for cleaning.

We were not best pleased with your last modification, though, where you blocked us from roosting atop the nesting boxes, though we do confess it keeps the nesting boxes much cleaner.  Its made things just a bit crowded in the house at night, with fewer roosting places to go around, and we really hate roosting close to the door.  We get very frightened when the Ratel comes sniffing around at night.  But really, we're not too badly off, so we're not complaining -- we still have much more space at night than any of our poor imprisoned battery-raised cousins -- plus we get to roam about all day, enjoying dust-baths in the shade of the Big Oak Tree on hot afternoons and Banana Snacks are most welcome around mid-morning.

We do think that one of the Young Lads roosting in the trees got taken by a Lynx early this morning, but we're not too sure.  Let's see there were 1,... errr... 1,... errr... 1,... (ooh I'm getting dizzy; now what was I doing?)

Crapulaciously Yours,
The Flock.

Now if only the little buggers Feathered Ladies will start laying decently again... Thanks always due to the guys at Tsitsikamma Furniture for the endless supply of poison-free wood-shavings.