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spawns

Today, we had a group of kids from the Vacaville Boys and Girls* Club. Twelve spawns of satan, two angels. It was interesting. 

At one point, one of the girls freaked out when a peeper (10-lb broiler chicken) tried to leap for the grape she was holding in her hand, even though I told her to immediately fling said grape to the ground, lest she be mauled by hungry chickens**. She didn't listen. So, she starts screaming bloody murder and crying. Making matters worse, two of the boys started throwing lettuce AT her in a master plan to start the War of the Chickens. It didn't work, and they were "yelled" at in a subdued manner.

The highlight, though, was two of the girls (the two angels) helping me collect eggs. They were so gentle and totally fascinated by the birds and the little oval objects that come out of the chickens. The hens, however, were quite miffed with the invasion and made valiant attempts at better killing through pecking my hand. Bless their little avian hearts, I love chickens so!

The kids thought the rabbits were awesome and that rubbing a 600-lb pig belly is pretty cool. All in all, it was an okay tour. Not horrible, not great, just okay. Children are such tiring creatures.


*My colleague thought I had written Boys and Gin club on the whiteboard of events. She was disappointed to learn I had simply scribbled illegibly and meant girls.

**Not all chickens are so voracious. However, humans have bred broiler chickens to be hungry 24/7 - food is peepers like crack is to a, well, crackhead.

Comments

( 1 comment — Leave a comment )
yesididit
Mar. 23rd, 2008 04:23 pm (UTC)
i want a little farm with pigs and chickens some day. *stares wistfully off into space*
( 1 comment — Leave a comment )

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