Frankie and Slim

Frankie and Slim
Happy New Year

Monday, August 28, 2006

CONFESSION IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL

Phoebe, the last of the Golden Girls, is no more. Yesterday morning she was dead in the pen. The night before I had rescued her from playtime with Slim. Again, Slim was not intending to hurt Phoebe, they were playing but Slim, the 30 lb dog, seemed to be a bit rough for Phoebe, the 3 lb c hicken.

I can make all kinds of excuses, but it all boils down to my dog killing my chicken. We basically moved from Kansas because the neighbor's unruly dog was murdering my chickens. So, what do I do? I let a dog move in with us and watch it murder my chickens and call it "play".

We have got to work this out. I want to keep my dear dog that I have grown to love. I want to always raise chickens and keep them safe. Oh woe is me.........

Meanwhile, I've got a hen under the house who shall come marching out any day with chicks behind her. I'm watching for them intently -- as is Slim.

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