The chickens hate me. Or they are completely terrified of me. Or both.
It makes me sad, because Trish loved me. And I’ve done all the same things with them that I did with her, like talking and petting.
There’s nothing worse than ungrateful poultry. It’s foul fowl behavior.
But I guess I should expect it. Shelly and Jeanne are in that ugly teenager phase. All gangly with feathers sticking up all over. They probably have acne. And don’t all teenagers hate their parents at that age?
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