Alanis and the chickens

I toss the leftover parrot cooked food into the chicken pen. Six chickens rush over and start pecking at the beans and peas. Alanis stands for a moment, watching as I start up the rock stairway to the upper part of the yard. When I’m too far away to grab her, she rushes at the pen, bouncing happily when the chickens scatter.

From the top of the stairs I yell, “Lanis, no.” Remarkably, she trots away from the pen to the nearby trees to scuff in the leaves and scratch her back under low-hanging branches. At least I know what she would do if the chickens were loose. Flappy-squawky toys!

Earlier today I spent some time at Target looking for the right dish. It had to be plastic, not metal. It could not be a bowl. It had to have enough depth to hold at least a half cup of water. It had to be cheap because I didn’t know if she would eat from it. Sadly, I had to pass up the cute child’s bowl with the monster printed on the bottom in favor of the plain black dish. These dishes are made of melamine. Just what we want touching our food.