chickens
When your feathered friends decide your shoulders are prime real estate
So your shoulders have become prime chicken real estate. I feel this on a spiritual level, there's something both flattering and absolutely terrifying about being chosen as the designated perch. One minute you're standing still, the next you're hosting a feathered friend who clearly thinks you're a tree. It's the kind of fowl play that makes you laugh nervously while praying they don't decide to test their balance mid-step. For anyone who's ever wondered if this is normal or just another chapter in the cluck-tastic chaos of chicken keeping, you're in good company. If you need more reassurance, our piece on "Your Speckled Sussex Is Doing Something Weird" might help you sleep better.
