I went to the barn for barn time. I was there at one this afternoon, which is the time I usually go and normally, I head over there twice a week.
I have a red shopping bag that has some grooming items in it, but I also utilize some grooming tools there at the barn. What I bring is two different rags, a nice cat comb that happens to work better on equids than felines, my magic mixture of de-tangle stuff for manes and tales, and my little kid safety cut scissors to use for trimming bridle paths or neatening them up, if needed.
The items at the barn already there for me to use are the cute plastic glitter gel curry comb, the bristle brush, and hoof pick.
This particular day, I went in and several of the stall heaters were still on, which make it rather toasty and warm, so I switched those off. I groomed Little C and re-braided his tail and tried to braid his mane, but it just wouldn't cooperate. I groomed Big C, whose mane and tail did cooperate. That's when I heard it.
"Grrrr, grrrr, grrrr."
The damn chicken was in the aisle walking around. I texted LAP and told her the chicken was growling at me. I think she thought I was joking at first, but I wasn't.
"Grrrr, grrrr, grrr."
God damn it, I go over there to groom equids to de-stress, the four leggers love the extra attention, and the barn cat is super cute, even though she wasn't anywhere to be found on this particular day.
There I am, trapped in the stall with Big C. I'd planned on going to the opposite side and working my way down horse by horse, individually. I gather my grooming tools and the halter and lead rope and ease out of the stall. The chicken looks at me and I go in the opposite direction toward the big palomino, Big T, and work my way toward the other end. (Big C is fond of peeing in shavings and then rolling in them, so after I groom him, I always smell like dried horse pee. D gives me kisses, J tries to untie the lead rope every time I have him tied, W has cow licks--I swear, a horse with cow licks is just wrong, but there you have it. A is a sweet young mare who is always perfectly mannered and cooperative, F is a big mare who is very pretty, and Big T always looks like the other horses grew oppose-able thumbs and hurled mud pies at him, namely his mane and tail.)
Keep in mind, I don't want to run through the barn and disturb the horses, but the damn chicken was glaring at me, slowly stalking me like I was human prey. Then I realized that I'd accidentally left something back at the other end. I piled stuff on the table across from the three stalls on one end and kind of edge my way back toward the back of the barn. Not wanting to turn my back on the growling chicken, I forced myself to do it thinking that I wasn't certain of the next time I'd be fixing fried chicken, but maybe I should mention that to this chicken so it would leave me alone.
I turn around and the chicken had wandered off to who knows where and this particular barn visit was a success because I didn't need to try to hide behind a horse to avoid a chicken. Seriously, some of these horses are so big, I can't really look over their backs because either they're that tall or I'm that short. Tell me to get one of these rather large horses to pick up a hoof for me to clean it and I'm perfectly good with that, in spite of the horse weighing on the nearer to 2,000 pounds end of things. Tell me to shoo the five pound chicken away and I'm afraid of it with it's giant chicken-y claws and growling and stalking me.
Horses are definitely the lesser of two evils. I'd rather have to chase down the two sheep and the wee goat who usually ignore me than deal with the two scary chickens, but at least one was hiding during this visit.
I have a red shopping bag that has some grooming items in it, but I also utilize some grooming tools there at the barn. What I bring is two different rags, a nice cat comb that happens to work better on equids than felines, my magic mixture of de-tangle stuff for manes and tales, and my little kid safety cut scissors to use for trimming bridle paths or neatening them up, if needed.
The items at the barn already there for me to use are the cute plastic glitter gel curry comb, the bristle brush, and hoof pick.
This particular day, I went in and several of the stall heaters were still on, which make it rather toasty and warm, so I switched those off. I groomed Little C and re-braided his tail and tried to braid his mane, but it just wouldn't cooperate. I groomed Big C, whose mane and tail did cooperate. That's when I heard it.
"Grrrr, grrrr, grrrr."
The damn chicken was in the aisle walking around. I texted LAP and told her the chicken was growling at me. I think she thought I was joking at first, but I wasn't.
"Grrrr, grrrr, grrr."
God damn it, I go over there to groom equids to de-stress, the four leggers love the extra attention, and the barn cat is super cute, even though she wasn't anywhere to be found on this particular day.
There I am, trapped in the stall with Big C. I'd planned on going to the opposite side and working my way down horse by horse, individually. I gather my grooming tools and the halter and lead rope and ease out of the stall. The chicken looks at me and I go in the opposite direction toward the big palomino, Big T, and work my way toward the other end. (Big C is fond of peeing in shavings and then rolling in them, so after I groom him, I always smell like dried horse pee. D gives me kisses, J tries to untie the lead rope every time I have him tied, W has cow licks--I swear, a horse with cow licks is just wrong, but there you have it. A is a sweet young mare who is always perfectly mannered and cooperative, F is a big mare who is very pretty, and Big T always looks like the other horses grew oppose-able thumbs and hurled mud pies at him, namely his mane and tail.)
Keep in mind, I don't want to run through the barn and disturb the horses, but the damn chicken was glaring at me, slowly stalking me like I was human prey. Then I realized that I'd accidentally left something back at the other end. I piled stuff on the table across from the three stalls on one end and kind of edge my way back toward the back of the barn. Not wanting to turn my back on the growling chicken, I forced myself to do it thinking that I wasn't certain of the next time I'd be fixing fried chicken, but maybe I should mention that to this chicken so it would leave me alone.
I turn around and the chicken had wandered off to who knows where and this particular barn visit was a success because I didn't need to try to hide behind a horse to avoid a chicken. Seriously, some of these horses are so big, I can't really look over their backs because either they're that tall or I'm that short. Tell me to get one of these rather large horses to pick up a hoof for me to clean it and I'm perfectly good with that, in spite of the horse weighing on the nearer to 2,000 pounds end of things. Tell me to shoo the five pound chicken away and I'm afraid of it with it's giant chicken-y claws and growling and stalking me.
Horses are definitely the lesser of two evils. I'd rather have to chase down the two sheep and the wee goat who usually ignore me than deal with the two scary chickens, but at least one was hiding during this visit.
I agree, chickens always seem ticked-off and ready to chase you. I also think they can fly short distances but I may be wrong. I would never be able to have a chicken coupe with farm eggs and name them cute names like, "Melba." I think birds in general are scary! -Streak (BTW the lavender lemon cookies were awesome!)
ReplyDelete