Our chooks have attitude. Lots of attitude. Just ask Mango. Mango is our dog. A somewhat loveable (he doesn't actually like me, but that's another story) cairn terrier. He's a fairly independent lad, who isn't entirely wrapped to be sharing his domain with 2 chooks. Especially 2 chooks with attitude. He has, at times thought about having a crack at the chooks. He only has to think about it and well, he ends up being chasee, rather than being the chaser. I kid you not. One dirty glance in the direction of chooks and they turn on him, wing flapping and squawking with glee. I did feel for the little dog the other day when I looked out the window to see Mango piss bolting at top speed across the front yard with not one, but two chooks in hot pursuit!
That evening, I defrosted some chicken thighs (stir fry) only to find they were off. Oh well, I thought to myself, Mango will have them. I plopped them in his bowl. Mango looked at me as if to say "you've gotta be kidding!"
I don't know what they're putting in chicken these days, but since that evening the tables have turned. Mango has new found chook confidence. George relayed a story to me the other this morning.
"Mum, Mango bit Scuzzy"
"What did Scuzzy do?"
"Pecked Mango"
"What did Mango do?"
"Bit Scuzzy again"
"What did Scuzzy do?"
"Pecked Mango again"
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