Cluck of the Week: Eating for three

By now it's no secret that we feed our hens more like people than like animals. Well, we snack them more like people -- they do also eat real feed and worms and bugs. But they're like Pavlov's dogs when the sliding glass door leading to the deck opens and lately we've discovered they hear (and flock to) the sound of the front door.

I suppose it's no surprise that the best treats come from the three year old. Because she's home most days of the week, she's the one who has the most opportunity to "share" our tasty vittles. I've caught her tossing them strips of string cheese, whole grapes, orange segments, and a potato chip or two. Usually they love staying near her because she feeds them more than she eats herself.

Today wasn't one of those days. Leave it to me to think Honey Oat Rings from the Dollar Tree are on par with Honey Nut Cheerios. I told Bella she had to eat them until the box was gone and then I'd buy the right kind. What does she do?

The face of defiance.

Yeah. Notice those brown dots. They're hard as steel and dark in color. And the entire box of them is now strewed across my deck. Guess who else won't eat them?

We had to rustle up something else because the girls were severely pissed off that we'd tricked them by putting rocks out for them to snack on. All I had was a discarded lid full of granola from a yogurt cup (someone in this house needs to hit the grocery store!) that the kids refuse to eat.

I love how one looks like the other's reflection.

The hens thought it was heavenly. (Let's not talk about how much sugar must've been in that granola!)