We’ve had a bit of confusion at our house the past few weeks. First off we have Ginger and Mrs. Bennett. Ginger, in all her fat pregnant goat glory, apparantly thinks she is a chicken, and thus entitled to hang out in the chicken coop (and just so you are duely impressed, that door in the chicken coop is 12 inches x 12 inches). Mrs. Bennett, in all her inferiority complexing from being picked on by the other chickens, thinks shes a goat and only socializes with the goats.
Then we have the feed store. The people at the feed store were confused as to the true gender of one of our hens. Turns out Lilly, our Barred Rock (think zebra stripes), is in fact a rooster. At least that is what we are assuming, given that he is bigger than any of the hens, has a full out comb and wattles, and crows every morning around 5 or 5:30. And since there is a rooster down the street, he doesn’t stop crowing until night time. Yeah. So Lilly is now known as Will.
Next is Layna. She either inherited narcolepsy from her sister or thinks she is a cat, and therefore allowed to fall asleep where ever and in the most awkward positions possible.
Maybe someday we will sort out the confusion…but most likely not. Oh well.