Joe is always excited when we let the chickens out to roam.
He always wants to come out and chase them around, pick them up and shoo them from the garden.
He always talks to them, pets them and calls them by name.
“Come back here Yellow!”
The chickens run from Ray and me. They want nothing to do with us. In fact, we usually have to resort to using a net to catch them.
Yet, they let Joe pick them up without so much as a caw-caw or a peep.
I’m not saying they like it. I really don’t think they do. But as soon as he runs to them, they squat down, bracing for the inevitable.
They even fearlessly eat from his hand.
I don’t pretend to understand it. I just know that when they are running from me, I call my little Chicken Whisperer to catch them and put them away.
A magical touch
Running at the fleeing birds
Shouting, “Here Yellow!”
a pinch of homestead 