He’s lost the plot, could have been the thought from neighbours and passersby this last week, as they heard me admonish our growing brood of hens.
Fucking dickhead! I hissed at one of our Rhode Island Red Australorps, stopping short of stamping my feet and waving my arms.
Oi knobhead, no, to an Australorp that’s usually a favourite, having raised it from a chick. I pointed a finger on the no as if this sturdy layer was fluent in Angry Man.
The cause of my poultry directed ire? Watching the pecking order in action.
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