While General Tsao attacks the local paparazzi all Bjork style, the fierce Leno roars like a lion.
The ladies' coop door was closed this evening, so they decided to perch on the dome. I had to lift them off; they flapped their wings in my face and hair, infuriated that I dared to interrupt their slumber. Eventually, they made their semi-blind way into their coop.
I have a love-hate relationship with these mothers. Sometimes I stroke their feathers and cluck at them, and some days, I can't wait to put them in the pot. Seriously. But today, I clucked and stroked, and didn't threaten them with the ax once.
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