I feel we have failed miserably as chicken parents. Our attempts to coax Captain Jack from the coop using peer pressure worked about as well as Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No” campaign. Now when Lady goes outside Captain crows relentlessly trying to convince Lady she’s just made the worst mistake of her life, I mean really, what IS she thinking going out there. The other chicks in the coop have decided to follow Captain’s lead; he is the man of the house after all. So that leaves us now with one well adjusted hen and about 16 agoraphobic knuckleheads. Not only has Captain persuaded the others to go to the dark side, he has developed a seriously aggressive attitude toward me (maybe he read my last post…and some chicken recipes). Not so long ago this handsome, albeit demented, beast used to eat grain from my open hand and now I’m getting full on rooster attacks. How embarrassing is it to fight off a tiny 2 pound chicken? Very. Fortunately he hasn’t grown spurs yet. I think I may stay on the cooking side of this development and leave the farming and animal husbandry to Steve. I don’t have the patience to psychoanalyze something I can eat.