lawn

My autumn hens think they're landscapers but skipped the leaf-raking memo

My autumn hens think they're landscapers, they scratch, they peck, they aerate, but somehow the leaf-raking memo never reached their coop. I love my feathered friends, but their version of yard work involves making the mess worse, then looking at me like *I'm* the one who's confused. It's a classic case of fowl play, and honestly? I'm not even mad. I'm just impressed by their commitment to chaos. This reminds me of another chicken owner who thought their rooster was dying for four years, turns out, these birds just love keeping us on our toes. If only I could get my flock to tackle the whole lawn. A girl can dream of cluck-tastic landscaping, right?