Ms. Broody has gone missing. After a pile of white feathers was discovered, the photo for her milk carton announcement was quickly recalled and her unfortunate death concluded. It has been often fabled of chickens going missing while returning weeks later with little peeping mini-me in tow. Hope was kept alive.
Meanwhile, “free range” chickens have gone wild. Broody’s adopted children have decided that they will roost in the trees, so fuhget you and your fancy coop. Eggs are impossible to find. A joke about our bereft Broody sitting on all the eggs waiting for them to hatch circulates with chuckles. Chickens have decided that if the teenie boppers can roost in the trees, then gadamnit, I’ll roost in the barn or where ever the hell I want. Total poultry anarchy. Kevin continues to keep everyone in line while still roosting in the same spot at the same time. He’s a fan of regularity. Pip, Chickie and Zora are alive and well and fat. Broody-Two takes them all around the farmyard digging up bugs. No, the peeps heard on this day were too desperate to be them. They were new peeps. They were Broody’s peeps!! Thirteen little fluffballs looking adoringly at a proud Broody who hid in a very safe place to hatch her chicks. Go Broody! Welcome back!