A year ago i read in Smithsonian (my favorite magazine) about donkeys in Morocco that know how to get to a country veterinarian by themselves. When this gentleman wake in the morning he finds a line up of donkeys, unaccompanied by owners outside his door. He can't figure out how the donkeys know the way, they just do.
While we don't have a line up of animals outside our door, (they all live inside) animals do tend to find their way here. The last in a long line is Bill. Bill was one week old when he came to stay. He quickly became the family favorite, especially of Cameron who has spent hours playing with the furry little feathered friend.
Bill had a great 3 weeks here, splashing happily in the fountains in the backyard, watching TV with Cam, playing with Mitch, sleeping on Toby's shoulder, and pooping on me, until we decided he was stinking up the house and needed to live outside. We thought we would see what the chickens thought of Bill.
The ladies didn't seem to notice the little addition to their coop except Georgia (named after curious George) who inspects everything, but she seemed harmless. For over an hour we watched to make sure their was no fowl play. Happily we went to bed. Bill had found a home with feathered friends.
Havoc struck in the morning. i think the girls upon waking for the day, were thrilled they had food. Unfortunately for Bill, he was breakfast. They pecked all the feathers off the back of his neck, leaving it raw and bare. Poor little Bill came back into the house to recuperate from his terrifying adventure.