We used to get 14 eggs a day from out little flock of chickens. Lately, it has been two or three a day. I know that during the winter, laying drops off. But I think I have discovered another reason for our chicken-fruit decline.
Mid-morning, I saw Ann the black lab/shepherd mix sitting under the leafless lilac bush. Something seemed odd. Suspicious. She turned to chew on her tail for a minute. I couldn't really catch her at anything. As we got ready to run to town for a 44 oz. Diet Coke, The Pony announced that Ann had an egg. During the drive, I expounded upon my theory that Ann was eating the eggs as fast as the chickens could lay them. Since those darn chickens roam around the yard and porch, rarely entering their custom-made chicken house, Ann thinks the egg situation is finders keepers. That's why she has grown so portly of late, on the same dry food ration as always.
The Pony argued that if Ann is eating all those eggs, one would at least expect her coat to be glossy and shiny. I know what he was doing. Taking Hick's side in the great Juno is the devil on four legs debate. Seriously. Just because she has a beautiful silky coat does not mean that Juno is an egg-eater. German shepherds have course undercoats. Ann looks mostly like a german shepherd. Even though her lab side makes her stack food scraps such as bread slices and chicken strips like casino chips before wandering off to enjoy them.
The Pony and I returned home from town around noon. "Hey, look. Ann is on the porch with her egg." Indeed, she was. She picked it up and backed away when she saw me staring at her. Then she tended it all afternoon. Quite a tender retrieving mouth she has, not to damage a fresh homegrown egg. Those things are fragile. Like...like...eggshells.
Here she is contemplating her next move.
My dear sweet much-maligned Juno wanted some of the action. No dice from the casino-chip-stacking queen. I'm sure there was some posturing going on here. Too bad my blog does not have growl-a-vision. No way would my dear sweet Juno stand at attention like that, so still, unless contemplating a coup. Please disregard her glossy coat. I'm sure it's due to her presumed border collie genes.
No rest for the wicked weary. Ann needed a midday siesta. Yet she could not leave her purloined egg unattended. What's an egg-thief to do? Well...use the egg for a pillow, of course.
The provocateur Ann has chosen the part of the yard in which my dear sweet Juno is wont to roll and cavort with her assorted toys and random animal bones.
With Ann so preoccupied today with that one egg, Hick reported a harvest of five from about the grounds this evening. I don't need a private investigator to tell me what's going on here.
I enjoyed hearing about your shepherd-who-has-ulterior-motives in guarding the flock. Looks like she's trying to hatch her little prize.ReplyDelete
Looks like she is trying to hatch the egg.ReplyDelete
Chicken Soup for the Soul has a call-out for dog stories. The deadline is August 31. Get crackin' and hatch a story. Or two...ReplyDelete
Oh no, no, no! That poor sweet labby boy is simply CARING for that egg until that good-for-nothing Mazie mommy chicken gets back from her hiatus in Florida. Didn't you ever read Horton Hatches an Egg? Of course, I am a labraholic and codependent to my sweet Baron dog; so I may be just a tad bit biased...ReplyDelete
Now if he don't stop eatin' my eggs upReplyDelete
Though I'm not a real bad guy
I'm gonna get my riffle and send him
To that great chicken house in the sky
Johnny Cash's sentiments, not mine.
Love the picture of the dog leaving with the egg in his mouth.
Aww. Such a sweet tale. I love reading dog stories.ReplyDelete
I have seen dogs steal and eat eggs plenty of times, but not sure I've seen one babysit an egg all day. That's hilarious!ReplyDelete
At first, I thought that was a crazy idea. But she still had that darn egg this evening on the porch. It must be very special in some way. Maybe it smells rotten. She won't let me get close enough to it to check.
Female shepherds are supposedly quite protective of family, while the males are protective of property. Maybe she's helping out a sister chicken, recognizing it as part of our pack.
I don't really see myself as a Souper kind of gal. But I will put it on the back burner.
I did not read Horton. There's another tome to stack precariously on my recliner-side table. I will say that this doggie definitely has lab tendencies and looks.
At least she is now only eating eggs instead of chickens. Those first three feathered snacks earned her a day in the shock collar and a flogging with the deceased. She learned. Some may call it cruel, but the chickens beg to differ.
She's not sharing. It's either a maternal instinct, or the forethought to save a snack for later.
I've got a million of 'em. But I try not to foist them on the internet public too often.
Well, then. My dog must be really special. Because if I remember correctly, you grew up among various and assorted fowl.