One of my dads favorite things to do with all of the grand kids when they are babies is to bring in a chicken for them to see. True to tradition, he came through the door a few nights ago carrying a Rhode Island Red hen who was not the least bit happy with where she found herself.
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Remember my post about how rough Mason can be?
This girl would have lost a handful of feather were it not
for the quick reflexes of Aunt Carley |
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Macky was right there next to Papa, ready for her turn to hold
the chicken. She's quite the animal lover. |
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| " Don't we eat these?" | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
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