I’ve been sitting in my hammock when I’ve had one of our girls hop up and sit in my lap and fall asleep. It’s really kind of flattering to be trusted by a creature that God designed to be natually afraid of everything. They have to overcome their instincts to make the conscious decision to be your friend.
They are just lulling you into a false sense of security.
You’ll be in your hammock thinking about Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass and one of those chickens will pull a switchblade on you.
Chickens are like short, feathery, tasty velociraptors.
Have you looked at their feet? I mean when they take their shoes off.
Those are some scary feet!
And don’t even get me started on their lips!
They can tear a lion to pieces with those chicken lips!
No thank you.
Not me.
There’s a reason they keep chickens in prison.
And it ain’t because they write bad checks.
They do, though.
Write bad checks.
Never take a check from a chicken unless it has two photo IDs.