Meet the Critters: Bella the Fail Dove and Screamin' Shaman

Bella is a 7 year old white ringneck dove.  Doves have long been regarded as symbols of peace and serenity. They are known for their grace and for their beautiful, soothing voices…

…but not Bella.

Clearly, anyone who believes this to be true has never met Bella. Bella does not embody ANY of the qualities for which doves are so well known.  In fact, Bella is quite the opposite.  He is a thieving, clumsy, and downright warlike bird.

Yes, you read that correctly. Bella is a ‘he.’  

For years, Mama assumed Bella was female, mostly because he is noticeably smaller than the other doves in the family. Since there are no real distinguishing physical features between the genders of ringneck doves, it was impossible for her to know that Bella was male…until he fathered children in 2008. By that point, he had learned his name and it was far too late to change it.

Poor guy…stuck for life with the most girly name imaginable. No wonder he’s such a mess.

In addition to having a girly name, Bella fails in many other ways as well.  For starters, he is quite possibly the clumsiest animal to ever ‘grace’ the face of this planet.  When Bella stretches his wings to take flight, a wise person will know that the best course of action is to duck and cover until Bella lands (or crashes) somewhere.

When Bella flies, it’s similar to a game of ping pong, where Bella is the ball, but there aren’t actually any other players. He’ll bounce off one wall, and then the next, until he reaches his destination…or at least somewhere in proximity to the landing spot for which he was originally aiming. 

A simple flight down the hallway, for example, sounds something like this: 

Flap-flap *thump*, flap-flap *thump* 

The truth is NO ONE is safe while Bella is airborne. There have been numerous mid-air collisions with the other birds in the house, he once mowed through a cluster of parakeets like they were nothing more than colorful little bowling pins, and Mama has been broadsided in the face by Bella more times than she can count.

In reference to his voice, everyone knows that doves make a beautiful, soft cooing sound, right? 

No. 

Not Bella. The best way to describe this, really, is to say that if Janis Joplin had been a dove, she would have sounded a lot like Bella. He has a raspy, Janis-like voice, and he often makes a scratchy ‘HEE-HEE-HEE’ noise that sounds like a maniacal cackle. 

Let’s have a replay of the flight down the hallway, with vocals this time: 

Flap-flap *thump*, HEE-HEE-HEE!!!  Flap-flap *thump*, HEE-HEE-HEE……*thump*

That is what it sounds like to live with Bella.

Bella fails to live up to a dove’s reputation in other ways, too.

He is not peaceful.

He is not serene.

He will pick a fight with anything that moves…except for Beaker, of course. (He may be clumsy, but he’s by no means stupid.)  His favorite ‘opponents’ include Beau (his son), and Bodhi, the largest, strongest dove in the house.  Bella will attack his opponents on sight, slapping them with his wings and ‘HEE-HEE-HEE-ing’ all the while.

It’s all in vain, though.  

Granted, he’s won a few matches with his son, Beau, but Bella has never won a fight against Bodhi…not once.  For some reason, that doesn’t stop Bella from trying…and trying…and trying again.

Doves do not deserve their peaceful reputation. Doves are warriors.

Bella is also a thief. He will steal anything he can carry, like jewelry, key rings, and hair ties.  Several of Mama’s necklaces have been lost this way, never to be seen again. He doesn’t eat them—he hides them. Mama and Dadda are certain that Bella has a secret hoard somewhere that they have yet to discover. 

Honestly, he’s worse than a ferret. 

Some of his attempted heists have involved shopping bags, fresh cut flowers from the arrangements Dadda gives Mama, and Mama’s ear bud headphones.  Thus far, he has failed to process that the headphones are connected to Mama’s computer…but that doesn’t stop him from trying with all of his might to fly away with them….over and over again. 

Admittedly, Bella’s failed attempts at thievery are highly amusing to observe.  He pretty much wreaks havoc everywhere he goes. 

In summary, if it is possible to fail, Bella will find a way. 

                               *                        *                        *

Shaman is an 8 year old male pearled cockatiel.  He has issues. 

Shaman screams—incessantly—for no reason whatsoever. It doesn’t matter how much love and attention he gets. It doesn’t matter how often he gets to come out of his cage. It doesn’t matter how many new and exciting toys he is given.  The screaming never stops. He just keeps going…and going….and going….like something out of the Energizer Bunny’s worst nightmare.

 

Truthfully, Shaman’s screaming would be a highly effective torture mechanism…and a viable alternative to waterboarding.  The effect is very much the same. 

None of Mama’s other cockatiels behave this way.  It’s just Shaman.  He’s…special. 

As a baby, Shaman was a feather-plucker.  That behavior (thankfully) subsided as he matured. Unfortunately, it was replaced with screaming.  Shaman always has been (and probably always will be) a high-strung, neurotic bird. He is highly sensitive and is susceptible to overstimulation.  Any amount of noise or activity in his immediate environment causes him significant stress.  

Mama has tried everything to keep him calm, but so far, nothing has worked. He is what he is. In truth, Shaman’s ideal environment would probably be a nice, quiet, padded room…perhaps with a New Age relaxation CD playing softly in the background….or maybe Tchaikovsky.  He really likes Tchaikovsky.  At least his tastes are refined, even if his behavior leaves a lot to be desired.  

He’s just plain crazy, and that’s all there is to it. 

This concludes introductions to the characters of 7.6 Lbs of Awesome.   

Up next, ‘Adventures in Housebreaking’…



Want to see photos of Bella The Fail Dove? You can! Click here:  http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.150216278390113.37783.141692599242481

Want to see photos of Screamin' Shaman? You can! Click here:  http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.149708091774265.37675.141692599242481&type=1

Meet the Critters: Murphie Bunn

 

Murphie Bunn is a three year old rabbit. She has lived with Mama and Dadda since she was a very little baby bunny.  When Murphie (aka ‘The Bunn-Bunn’) became part of the family shortly before Easter 2008, she was no bigger than a softball.  She was the cutest, sweetest little bunny Mama and Dadda had ever met. 

Mama and Dadda soon discovered, however, that she was as mischievous as she was cute.  In truth, Murphie Bunn is perhaps the single most destructive creature to ever walk the face of the planet.  

As she grew and continued to gain speed and strength, Murphie became skilled at the obliteration and annihilation of all things electronic.  She moved swiftly through the house, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.  The long list of casualties includes six sets of computer speakers, three computer mice, two cell phone chargers, one computer keyboard, countless AC adapters, and the stereo. 

While her preferred prey IS Mama and Dadda’s electronic devices, she will occasionally target other things for termination, like puppy beds, purse straps, dining room rugs, and plush frogs. Those inanimate objects never stood a chance against Bunn….Murphie Bunn.

As all things do, Murphie changed significantly as she grew and matured.  In her awkward teenage stage, she sported a half-lop.  

Had she been a member of a warren, this questionable ‘fashion statement’ might have inspired many jokes at her expense, but as it was, Mama and Dadda laughed at their silly looking little bunny and loved her all the same.

Murphie had lived with Mama and Dadda for about six months when Beaker joined the family. Mama and Dadda were sure Beaker and Murphie would become great friends, and they looked forward to all of the adorable Easter pictures they would surely take of the two of them together.

They were wrong.

Murphie did NOT become Beaker’s friend.  Murphie became her nemesis.  Beaker has never hated another living creature as much as she hates Murphie Bunn.

It must be said, however, that Murphie Bunn is in no way responsible for Beaker’s hatred of her. Murphie actually likes Beaker very much.  In general, Murphie likes everyone.  Beaker, on the other hand, doesn’t really like anyone (except for Mama).  She merely tolerates some members of the family more so than others. Beaker has always considered Murphie to be utterly intolerable. 

The reason for Beaker’s animosity is most likely due to a misunderstanding. Unfortunately, Murphie’s hutch is located in close proximity to the place where Beaker lays her eggs.  Because there is no rooster involved, Beaker’s eggs are not fertile and will never hatch, thus they must be removed after she lays them. 

Mama and Dadda are actually the ones that remove the eggs, but Beaker does not know this, nor will she EVER. It is a deep, dark secret that Mama and Dadda have vowed to keep from her forever, mostly because they’ve seen her reaction to the missing eggs. 

Because Murphie is always the closest to the scene of the crime, she is often falsely accused and punished for egg theft by Beaker.  When Beaker realizes that her eggs are missing, she sounds the chicken alarm and charges at Murphie’s hutch, slamming her entire body against Murphie’s house repeatedly, until Mama intervenes and puts a stop to the madness.

Murphie doesn’t really seem to mind the attacks. After all, Beaker can’t actually hurt her—she’s confined and protected by the bars of her hutch—a detail (and significant piece of innocence-proving evidence) that Beaker has unfortunately failed to recognize and process. 

Occasionally, Murphie will ‘growl’ at her (a low, completely non-menacing noise that sounds like ‘murrrr’) but other than that, Murphie pays Beaker’s relentless assaults no mind and usually doesn’t even acknowledge them.  

Mama and Dadda have since accepted the sad truth that Murphie and Beaker will never be friends.

Eventually, Murphie matured and outgrew her ‘half-lop’ phase in favor of a more symmetrical and balanced appearance. 

As an adult rabbit, she has continued to be a sweet natured, affectionate little bunny, harboring no aggression or ill will towards anyone…not even Beaker.  

At the end of Murphie’s third year with Mama and Dadda, Mojo joined the family.  Initially, she was not receptive to him. He was a stranger, and if he was anything like Beaker, he would be trouble.  For the first few days after Mojo joined the family, she ‘murrrrred’ at him and boxed the bars of her hutch with her front paws every time he came near.  

This comical action was obviously intended to intimidate him, but in reality, it only served to pique the puppy’s curiosity.  Mojo was immediately interested in Murphie, and he tried his very best to keep a polite, respectful distance.  A puppy’s best effort, however, rarely wins out over his curious and social nature. 

Within a few days, Murphie realized that Mojo was not a threat to her, and she accepted him as a member of the family.  When she was no longer wary of him, she began to take an interest in him as well, and they gradually began to socialize with each other.  

It was in Mojo that Murphie finally found the friend she sought. 

Mojo adores her and often bathes and grooms her face and ears for her.  No matter what Mojo may be doing, he always makes time to hang out with Murphie Bunn.  Murphie enjoys the doting attention and affection, and she is thankful to have another animal to interact with in a positive and friendly manner.  They are a source of happiness and companionship in each other’s lives. 

Murphie Bunn and Mojo are the very best of friends.



Up next, Bella The Fail Dove and Screamin' Shaman... 


Want to see photos of Murphie Bunn? You can!  Click here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.141734922571582.35996.141692599242481

Meet the Critters: Mojo - Part 2

Mojo sat in his cage with a heavy heart, listening to the sounds of whining dogs and very displeased cats.   Mama had left him and he was devastated — he had tried his very best to be a good boy, and he did not understand why she had left.

Mojo sighed.

If only Mama had given him a chance to apologize for whatever horrible thing it was that he had done.  Mama and Dadda were much nicer to him than his first people were, and he was sure they could have had a wonderful life together, filled with treats, toys, and bye-bye in the car—but that dream was gone.  It was all over now.  He curled up in a ball and trembled, afraid of what his future would hold.

Then, The Lady in Uniform came for him again. 

Mojo tucked his tail and cowered in fear as The Lady in Uniform reached into the cage to grab him. She picked him up, carried him across the room, and put him in a deep metal box with a cold, slippery bottom.

Suddenly, there was an awful, loud noise that seemed to come from all directions, and a gush of cold water hit him.  It seemed to be falling from the sky.  It began to pool around his feet, steadily rising higher and higher.

Mojo frantically searched for an escape, but The Lady in Uniform hovered above him, blocking his exit and refusing to let him out of the box.  The water rose higher.

He was doomed!

Then, The Lady in Uniform reached into the water and started rattling the floor of the metal box. There was an alarming gurgling sound at his feet. Mojo trembled.

The metal box was going to eat him!

Suddenly, much to Mojo’s relief, the water level began to drop, and he realized that the metal box was not going to eat him after all. It was just drinking the water.  It must be thirsty.  It was The Thirsty Box.

“Blah wah wah wah,” The Lady in Uniform grumbled. 

She rinsed him off until he was soaking wet, reached for a bottle on the shelf, and squirted some strange smelling stuff all over him. 

Strange smelling stuff…strange smelling stuff…

‘Ah, yes!’ Mojo thought. ‘NOW I remember.’

This had happened once before.  Mama had done it to him the day she rescued him from the pound, only she had used a much larger white box instead of the cold metal one. Mama had called it a ‘Bath’.

Mojo understood what was happening now (in that moment, at least.) The Lady in Uniform was giving him a Bath.

He did not like it.

The Lady in Uniform scrubbed him with The Strange Smelling Stuff until he was covered with its smell. Then, she rinsed it off.  The Thirsty Box greedily drank all of The Strange Smelling Stuff, gurgling contentedly.

‘What a strange box,’ Mojo thought. ‘You’re not supposed to drink The Strange Smelling Stuff. The Thirsty Box is not a good boy.’

Finally, The Lady in Uniform picked him up, took him out of The Thirsty Box, and dried him off. 

Mojo breathed a sigh of relief. It was over. He had survived.

But it wasn’t over.  Not by a long shot.

The Lady in Uniform set Mojo down on a table.  She turned and grabbed a shiny black stick off of the shelf and approached him again.

At first, Mojo was somewhat excited, despite his apprehension. Were they going to play ‘Go Get It’!?  While a game of ‘Go Get It’ would not make up for what had happened to him today by any means, it was certainly a step in the right direction. 

But then, something REALLY scary happened. 

The stick started to buzz.  It sounded like the bees in Mama and Dadda’s garden, and Mojo realized in horror that the stick had teeth!  TEETH!!!  And they were coming right for him!

Mojo was terrified. He tried to jump off the table and make a run for it, but The Lady in Uniform was too fast for him.  She held him down to the table…

…and attacked him with The Snarling Buzzy-Bee Stick. 

When the Snarling Buzzy-Bee Stick touched him, his hair started to fall off in clumps! Mojo was absolutely horrified.

What had he done to deserve this?!

The Snarling Buzzy-Bee Stick attacked every part of his body while the Lady in Uniform held him down—his back, his belly, his face, his legs, his feet, his ears…and even his tail. 

Mojo could do nothing but tremble.  He was paralyzed with fear.

Suddenly, the Snarling Buzzy-Bee Stick was quiet.  The Lady in Uniform put it back on the shelf, picked Mojo up, and put him back in his cage.  

After she left and Mojo felt safe again, he stood up and started to move around in the cage.

It was at that point that he had a delightful realization.

It didn’t hurt to move anymore!  The matted hair was gone.  The Snarling Buzzy-Bee Stick had taken it all away.  His hair no longer pulled at his skin when he walked.  He could sit down without any pain. Imagine how much more fun running, jumping, and playing would be now!

Mojo sighed.  If only he could run, jump and play.  If only Mama and Dadda were here… 

Then, The Lady in Uniform came back. She took him out of the cage and carried him into another room…

…and Mama and Dadda WERE there!!!

They had come back for him!

Mojo was overjoyed.  The Lady in Uniform put him down and he ran to Mama and Dadda as fast as he could, his entire body wagging with excitement.

Mama and Dadda had come to his rescue again. He had not been abandoned.  He was going home.

‘Jo IS a good boy!’ he realized, with relief.  

It was the happiest moment of his life. 

                                                                                  *                             *                             *

Mama worried about Mojo the whole time he was at the vet getting groomed.  The way he looked at her before they took him away had been heartbreaking.  She wished there had been a way to explain to him that she would come back for him. Dadda assured her that everything would be fine while she waited anxiously by the phone for the vet to call. 

When the call they were waiting for finally arrived, they left the house immediately to go pick up Mojo.  They were both eager to see what their newly groomed dog would look like.  To them, he had always been a 7.6Lb ball of yarn.  They had never seen him look like anything other than a wooly, matted creature that was more akin to a teddy bear than to any live animal. 

They had no real sense of what he actually looked like as a dog.  

What they saw when they arrived to pick him up surprised them. 

When they dropped Mojo off to be groomed, he looked like this:

 When they came to pick him up, he looked like this:

That was all of the dog the groomer found underneath the matted fur.

In the weeks that followed his adventure in grooming, Mojo’s behavior became increasingly puppy-like.  He was still an extraordinarily well behaved dog, but he was more active and playful than he had been when he first came to live with Mama and Dadda. With the matted hair gone, the source of his discomfort had been eliminated. He was free to run fast, jump high, and play hard…and he did.

A lot.

He spends his days playing with his toys, hanging out with Murphie Bunn, and trying in vain to befriend Beaker.  In the evenings, he goes on long walks through the neighborhood with Mama and Dadda.  After dinner, he cuddles on the couch with Mama and Dadda while they stare at The Noisy Flickering Box.  At night, he falls asleep on his back and has little doggie dreams.

Even though he’s in his comfort zone with Mama and Dadda now (both physically and mentally), he has continued to be the easiest, most well behaved puppy they have ever met.  He’s a friendly little dog that loves everyone he meets.  He is convinced that the world exists to love him and play with him.  

Mojo aims to please, and he’s a very smart little dog.  He learns fast, he does what he’s told, and he always behaves.  Jo is a good boy.

Up next, Murphie Bunn…




Want to see photos of Mojo? You can! Click here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.141720192573055.35995.141692599242481

Meet the Critters: Mojo - Part 1

Mojo the Pound Puppy Poodle

On the afternoon of April 1, 2011, Mama and Dadda were driving home from Grandma’s house, and they were a long, long way from home.  Suddenly, Dadda got an idea. He felt like they should stop at the nearest animal shelter…just to look at some adoptable dogs.  He said he was feeling some interesting mojo and something was telling him to stop - right now - and look...so they located the nearest animal shelter on Dadda’s GPS, got directions, and went to look at the adoptable dogs. 

Sure enough, Dadda was right. 

When they arrived at the shelter, they did meet a little dog that captured their hearts.  It was an 8 month old male poodle puppy with long, curly brown hair and a little white beard.  His hair had never been brushed and it clung to his skin in tight matted clumps. The matting was so bad that he had dreadlocks behind his ears.  To top it all off, he smelled like he had never had a bath in his life.

But even in this condition, he was an adorably sweet, endearing little dog. 

When Mama and Dadda met Mojo, he looked like this:

 His previous owner had dropped him off at the pound, and now this sweet little boy needed a home. How could anyone leave a precious little face like this in a pound?  Mama and Dadda certainly couldn’t, so they adopted him and decided to name him Mojo.   

They would call him Jo for short.

Mojo was perfectly well behaved on the long ride to Mama and Dadda’s house.  He sat with Mama in the car, napping most of the way. When Mojo finally arrived at his new home, he was introduced to Murphie Bunn, who growled at him and tried to punch him through the bars of her hutch. Then, he met Beaker, who sounded the ‘Chicken Alarm’ and attacked him on sight. 

Discouraged and confused, Mojo hid under the coffee table until Mama and Dadda pulled him up onto the couch to cuddle. 

In the days following Mojo’s arrival, it became evident to Mama and Dadda that Mojo’s first owner had been less than kind to him. Mojo was afraid of sudden movements and loud noises. He was afraid of his collar and his leash, and every time Mama picked them up, he would run to hide under Dadda’s chair. He was afraid to go potty. He didn’t even know what to do with the new toys Mama and Dadda bought for him.  Mojo was afraid to be a dog.   

He didn’t know how to be a dog. 

Furthermore, Mojo was unusually well behaved for a puppy.  He was calm; he was quiet—he literally never did anything wrong.  He was so well behaved, in fact, that Mama began to worry that something might be wrong with him…so she took him to the vet for puppy shots and a thorough checkup.

The vet took his temperature and ran lots of tests.  Aside from an ear infection and a mild case of kennel cough, Mojo was in good health. The vet gave him some shots, he gave Mama some ointment for Mojo’s ears, and he strongly recommended that Mojo come back for a haircut when he was well.  

On his first trip to the vet, Mojo weighed in at 7.6 Lbs…most of which was probably hair....

....the rest, of course, was pure awesome.

Over the next two weeks, Mama and Dadda nursed Mojo back to health.  They were very kind and gentle with him, and Mojo began to realize that no one was going to hurt him anymore.  He began to feel safe and comfortable with his new family.  He began to really love Mama and Dadda, and he decided that they were very nice people.  

 

When Mojo started to feel better, Mama and Dadda took him on lots of exciting adventures! They went for walks through the neighborhood every day. They went ‘bye-bye in the car’ all over town.  They went to pet stores where Mojo got new toys and a nice, soft bed of his very own. They went to parks with big open fields, where there were lots of nice people, and little kids, and other dogs…and everyone loved Mojo.  The world existed to pet him.  He was so happy in his new life that he could hardly believe it was real.

And then…the unthinkable happened.

Mama awoke earlier than usual one morning and announced that they were going ‘bye-bye in the car’.  Mojo was so thrilled at the news that he bounced around the room like supercharged Flubber.   

‘Bye-bye in the car’ was always awesome!   

Mojo and Mama walked outside, hopped in the car, and drove away on what was sure to be another legendary adventure…but it didn’t last as long as he had hoped.

After a disappointingly brief ‘bye-bye in the car,’ they arrived at the place where they had gone before—the place where he had been poked and prodded.  Only moments after he and Mama stepped into the waiting room, a lady in a uniform came walking towards Mojo.  She was holding a leash….

....and it was identical to the one used at the pound.  

Mojo’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach as he realized in horror what was happening:  Mama was getting rid of him.   

Mama was leaving him!  

As the lady in uniform slipped the Horrible Thing over his head, he stood on his hind legs and frantically pawed at Mama’s knees, his dark, sad eyes pleading with her in absolute desperation.

“No, Mama…don’t leave me! I love you! Whatever I did, I’m sorry! I promise I will be a good boy! Just please, please don’t leave me!” he whimpered.

“Blah wah wah, Mojo.  Mama wah blah blah blah,” Mama said, as she petted him on the head.

And then….the person in uniform took him away from Mama.  She led him into another room and put him in a cage…and Mojo knew he would never see Mama again. 

To be continued...

Meet the Critters: Beaker

Preface

Welcome to 7.6 Lbs of Awesome!  This story tells the tale of Mojo the dog, Beaker the bantam, and Murphie Bunn…the bun.  Of course, as the menagerie’s caretakers, Mama and Dadda play a fairly large part as well.  

Other minor characters, like Dorian Grey, Bella the Fail Dove, Bodhi the Burly, and Screamin’ Shaman will probably also make periodic appearances.  This blog will eventually become a web comic of sorts, but the initial introductory posts will be written in an illustrated blog format. 

In the beginning of…well, anything really…I suppose it’s never a bad idea to proceed with proper introductions, so here’s a little background info on everyone…we’ll begin our story with Beaker:

Beaker the Bantam

Beaker is a three year old white bearded silkie bantam hen. (How’s that for a string of adjectives?)

Silkie Bantams are of Asian origin and were referenced in the writings of Marco Polo.  They are the only species of chicken with five toes, and they have blue-black skin, blue-black beaks, and bright sky blue patches of skin around their ears.  They are extraordinarily docile (except towards bunnies and poodles, apparently), and they are extremely affectionate - and even cuddly - animals.

Mama has often said that she honestly believes chickens would rival dogs and cats in terms of household pet popularity if more people knew how wonderful they are.  (Mama’s a weird one.) 

Dadda has referred to Beaker on more than one occasion as the ‘Pomeranian of Birds’.

Honestly, however, his comparison is strikingly accurate.  Yes, Beaker is a chicken…but she’s not your average chicken.

Beaker looks like this:

 

To answer the question I’m almost certain you are asking, yes, she does have eyes, and yes, she can see….

....just not very well.

In addition to strongly resembling a Muppet, she actually sort of sounds like one, too. Granted, there’s the occasional loud and somewhat obnoxious ‘Chicken Alarm’ (an absurdly loud 'BOCK-bock-bock-Bah-GAWK-bock-bock-bock-Bah-GAWK)...but those vocalizations are few and far between.

And they’re typically directed at Murphie Bunn anyway.

The majority of her vocabulary consists of almost cat-like purring sounds and soft little noises that sound like ‘boop’.  For this reason, Mama frequently calls her ‘Little Boop’, ‘Bitty Boop’, and sometimes even ‘Itty Bitty Boop’…or some other ridiculous variation of the aforementioned phrases.

Regardless of the absurdity of Mama’s nicknames for her, they aren’t entirely off base.  Beaker really is quite small.  The majority of her apparent mass is, in fact, feathers…lots and lots of feathers. Beaker only weighs a little more than two pounds…feathers included. 

She has lived with Mama and Dadda since she was just a four week old baby chick. In August 2008, Mama and Dadda adopted little baby Beaker from a nice lady named Mary who had lots and lots of beautiful Silkie Bantam chickens. Mama had wanted a little pet hen for a very long time, Beaker was a very sweet little baby, and Mary was almost certain that Beaker was a girl.

Much to Mama's dismay, when Beaker was three or four months old she started to crow!  So, Mama and Dadda decided she must be a rooster.

....but then she laid an egg a few weeks later!

Beaker was confused in her youth.  It happens to the best of us, I suppose.  Perhaps she’s just a really butch hen.

Either way, it’s very difficult to determine a baby chick’s gender unless you’re a professional farmer or something.  Even Beaker herself couldn’t tell at first.  One thing was always certain, though—Beaker was one cute baby.

When Beaker first met Mama and Dadda, she looked like this: 

Who could resist a face like that?

Certainly not Mama…and that’s why Beaker is what she is today.

See, there’s something you should understand about Beaker.  Regardless of what Mama may say or believe, the truth is that the bird rules the roost.

For starters, the hen lives in the house.  She wears a custom made diaper, in blue, to match the color of the skin around her ears.  She is three years old, but she doesn’t have a single callous, because she’s spent her days strolling about on plush carpet in an air conditioned house, and occasionally on soft grass on very pleasant evenings.

She takes warm showers with herbal lavender cleanser. She sleeps in a fluffy plush pet bed, with a fleece baby blanket and her own stuffed animals.

Seriously, the bird has a teddy bear…as well as a stuffed dog, a little plush lamb, and a fuzzy little baby duck. It is the most absurd thing you have ever seen in your life. Honestly, Mama questions her own sanity sometimes.

But, Beaker doesn’t seem to mind. Why would she? She gets whatever she wants whenever she wants it, including all of the freeze dried mealworms her heart desires…on demand.

Beaker’s routine is very important to her.  She is not fond of any sort of variance whatsoever.  In the event that something contrary to Beaker’s expectations does happen, the world will hear ALL about it, at least until Mama scoops her up for a comforting cuddle.

Beaker has trained Mama well.

She likes to ‘talk’ and Mama has learned her language.  Mama has also learned that ‘shoulder time’ begins promptly at sundown.  When Beaker is ready (things are always on her terms, of course) she will stand at Mama’s feet until Mama picks her up for a cuddle. Beaker then climbs up onto Mama’s shoulder, and the two of them watch television together.

It’s completely absurd, isn’t it? 

In Beaker’s defense, however, it must be said that (although she is entirely spoiled) she does contribute significantly to the household, mostly by maintaining a constant vigil and protecting the house from all intruding insects. She’s faster than she looks (when she wants to be), and she is frequently seen to snatch flying moths out of the air.

It’s a beautiful, symbiotic relationship, really:  Beaker gets fresh snacks; Mama and Dadda get free pest control.

Beaker is the perfect pet, actually - despite her prima donna tendencies. She has never destroyed anything, she comes when she’s called, she’s affectionate (but not clingy), she doesn’t peck or bite (at least not people)...and she’s quite unobtrusive.

....as long as she gets what she wants when she wants it.

She is a kind, beneficent master. Provided her routine is never disrupted, everything happens on her terms, and there are never any surprises in her life whatsoever, Beaker is a content and happy hen.

Up next, Mojo the Pound Puppy Poodle…




What's it like to have a pet chicken? Mama shares the pros and cons and answers some commonly asked questions: https://www.facebook.com/7.6Lbs.of.Awesome#!/note.php?note_id=142122565866151

Want to see photos of Beaker? You can! Click here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.141712349240506.35994.141692599242481