I missed my chance to get a great shot of their first reactions to six or seven inches of the white stuff. This was our first real snowfall this winter. We’d received a couple inches here and there but really NOTHING compared to a normal winter.
So, on this brisk morning, after shoveling a path across the deck (i think it’s important to note that this was all done in my jammies), I opened the coop door at a little after 7a.m.
and nothing happened.
Nobody scuttled down the ramp to the food bin.
Nobody was squawking about whose turn it was to go first out the door.
There was just silence.
Concerned that the four of them might be chicken-pops still clutching their roost bar, I crouched down to get a glimpse inside.
All four ladies were standing silent… just inside the coop door craning their necks to peer out.
The boldest of the lot is Lupin and I couldn’t even convince HER to come out.
To help you visualize what was happening, here’s a photo of their little doorway. Their coop door slides down to close for the night. When it is open it is up inside the coop.
These next shots were taken after much melting had occurred but there’s still enough white stuff left to cause three of the four to be reluctant about venturing out of the run.
Nugget and Lupin are the two that are the most intrepid. They’re the least able (genetically speaking) to handle the cold and they’re the two who seem the most at home in the snow. They are also the two that will literally fly across the yarn at the merest glimpse of me.
I have taken to calling them my fan club. They love me. awwwwww
These two were actually eating ice. Eating. Gobbling it up. I warned them about brain freeze. Typically – I was ignored.