I like old-fashioned play. After days of sickness and endless rain, the kids finally got a moment of dry, warm weather yesterday afternoon and they made good use of it by giving baths to the chickens, of course.
Kateri, who does not normally lean toward the domestic, turns downright motherly when it comes to her “sweet little hens.” So, we needed a tub (an old discarded storage container), some Baby Soap (thanks for sharing, Raphael), and plenty of towels. Let the bathing begin.
A couple of the hens panicked when we first placed them in the warm water. They flapped their wings frantically and soaked us with soapy sprays of water. But Kateri held them firmly in her grasp and spoke to them in soothing tones. They settled down. Then they stood still, blinking calmly, as she scrubbed the mud from their legs and rinsed the dust from their feathers. Each was bundled into a warm towel before being released to forage through the clean grass while their feathers dried to a glossy sheen.
In this morning’s sunshine, the hens still look radiant. God bless them. And God bless the girl who loves them so.