on being doused in discomfort

cloudy with a chance of chicken shit

Good news dear reader!

The pullets are adapting to their new lives as part of our flock.

Yesterday was a bit of a shock to them. The experienced their first rain.

Drenched and likely chilled this was likely the first really intense atmospheric discomfort of their puny little lives.

Oh sure, they’ve known violence. Their sisters sharp beaks have been a constant reminder of where they belong and who gets to eat first, but rain?

Rain was a new thing.

They didn’t like it.

Now dear reader, I know what you’re thinking?

How could you tell if your chickens were unhappy? Are you not imposing human values on animals with brains smaller than Tay tay’s poop hole? (TAY TAY DOES NOT POOP!)

Let me explain dear reader. In order to determine the relative happiness of a chicken, you need only look at their lips. Duh.

And yes,

CHICKENS HAVE LIPS.

They’re called chicken lips for a reason you snapperheads.

It’s like y’all know nothing about chickens.

Like for example, if you’re a simple citidiot, you’ve likely neve…