Chicken Tails – Dustbath Antics, again…
Dear Diary – Dustbath Antics
Dear Diary,
Oh, what a day it has been in the world of backyard chickens!
Prepare yourself for a tale filled with dust, feathers, and the most absurd spa treatments known to poultry kind.
Today, I witnessed a spectacle that would make even the most sophisticated chickens cluck in disbelief.
Henrietta, the reigning diva of the coop, decided it was time to unveil her latest beauty secret: the legendary dust bath.
She strutted around with an air of superiority as if she had discovered the fowl equivalent of the Fountain of Youth.
With great anticipation, I observed as Henrietta chose her dusty sanctuary, a spot carefully selected for its optimal dirt-to-satisfaction ratio.
It was as if she had stumbled upon a chicken-sized paradise, complete with its own exfoliating properties.
And then, dear Diary, the ritual began. Henrietta flapped her wings with the grace of a clumsy peacock, sending clouds of dust into the air.
It was a sight to behold as if she had transformed into a feathered tornado on a mission to redefine the concept of personal hygiene.
As the dust settled, I couldn’t help but wonder what thoughts were swirling in Henrietta’s majestic mind.
“Ah, yes,” I imagined her thinking, “this is the secret to eternal beauty.
Move over, to expensive spas and fancy creams.
Dirt is the true elixir of youth!”
But the absurdity didn’t end there, oh no. In a display of solidarity, Henrietta’s companions, Penelope and Gertrude, joined her in the dust-filled revelry.
The trio resembled a trio of masked bandits, ready to rob the world of its seriousness one feather at a time.
And then, Diary, the unthinkable happened.
A group of nosy squirrels, who had apparently mistaken the chicken coop for an all-you-can-eat buffet, decided to crash the party.
See also The Great Seed Heist
They scurried around, stealing seeds and causing chaos, oblivious to the importance of a good dust bath.
Henrietta, always one to assert her dominance, flapped her wings and sent a dust cloud directly toward the squirrels.
They scampered away, choking on a mixture of dust and humiliation. It was a victory for the feathered beauties, a triumphant moment in the annals of poultry history.
Oh, Diary, the absurdity of it all!
Who would have thought that chickens, with their clucking and feathered antics, could provide such comic relief?
In their quest for eternal youth and their unyielding devotion to dust baths, they have unwittingly become the stand-up comedians of the animal kingdom.
So, dear Diary, if ever you find yourself in need of a good laugh or a reminder that life’s quirkiest moments can be found in the unlikeliest of places, I implore you to spend a day in the company of backyard chickens.
Their dust baths and feathered follies will surely brighten even the gloomiest of days.
Until next time, Diary, may your days be filled with laughter and your dust baths be extravagant.
Yours, with feathers of amusement,
Stephen
Self-Confessed New Chicken Owner