Here in Botetourt County, Virginia, the wind chill is below 0 this morning and our heritage Rhode Island Reds are not happy. Chickens have a way of... perhaps fussing the right word... when things do not go to suit them. They march up to Elaine and me, and the whining begins.
This is usually after we give treats to the other chicken run's fowl - the two separate flocks have pens that border each other - and the other flock does not receive any. Of course, both flocks will complain simultaneously if we walk by and don't give anyone anything.
This morning there was quite a bit of ruffled feathers, both literally and figuratively. Literally because the birds were constantly "fluffing" because of the cold and figuratively because they were complaining about the frigid conditions.
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