A place where the sun don't shineDo you ever find yourself doing something that the sixteen-year-old you would never ever believe? Sixteen-year-old Becca would be shocked at some of the things that go on around here, but I think some of today's activities take the cake.
Calvin and I went out to check on the chickens this morning, as is our morning routine. One of the chickens wasn't doing so well, and blood was dripping down her rear feathers for some reason. My first instinct was just to run away, but grown-up Becca decided to handle this one, instead of channeling the 16 yr old.
I picked her up (gingerly) and carried her over to the faucet where I scrubbed her bloody chicken bum and examined it to see what was the problem then applied copious amounts of Neosporin. Are you getting the visual here????? I just got far more familiar with a chicken bum than I ever could have imagined. And can I just say for the record that wet feathers smell really really gross.
Don't have a clue what's wrong. I have consulted the all-knowing internet, and I'm doing all I know to do. Short of taking her to the vet. Because it's a chicken.
How differently life turns out than what you expect. Most days I'm pretty convinced that's a good thing, but I'm wondering right about now.