Dogs, Chickens and Failure to Communicate

They’re All Such Animals

I have come to the conclusion that I far prefer dogs to chickens for overall yard behavior. Mind you, I only observe their actions during the day, leaving what they do in the privacy of night beyond judgement. Perhaps dogs seem more civilized because they have spent more intimate time with humans. Or maybe it’s because we generally don’t eat them or steal their unborn young.

For the most part, I base my favoritism on eating manners. Chickens remind me of Republicans – what’s mine is mine and what’s yours should be mine, as well. As soon as a food scrap hits the ground, chickens will swoop in from all directions to greedily snatch it. If a rooster is nearby, he generally gets a free pass and will knock chicks and hens out of the way with his powerful legs to enforce his superiority. When a hen beats the flock to the morsel, the race is not done, as others will try and take the food from her mouth or dash off with it should she drop it to the ground. This snatching can go on for quite some time, until the flock grows weary or one hen gets some serious distance from the flock.

The Dogs are much more sedate, strolling casually up on the porch, usually announcing their arrival with nothing more than lapping water from the bowl. Lately, Momma has been coming alone. But, when Dad joins her, he sits patiently by while she eats – like the gentleman that he is. None of the “Me First” chauvinism I see in the roosters.

While I won’t speak to Doggie style sex, Dad does wander back to see the pups on occasion. Last year, he spent lots of time wandering off in the fields with the pups. I assume training them in some way, if only by example.

Chicken sex, on the other hand, is more like chicken rape. The rooster comes up from behind, without any discernable warning or foreplay, pins her tail feathers forward, slams her neck to the ground with his beak and then VERY quickly completes his act and jumps off. Though, I admit they rarely fall asleep afterwards. While the hens provide no post-natal nutrients directly, they do watch over their young for a couple of weeks, showing them the basics of the scratch and peck system of feeding.

I must admit that I likely began this analysis with a doggy bias. So, if any of you chicken lovers out there care to defend your avian friends, please, be my guest.

Failure to Communicate

It happens, especially when Spanish is not your native tongue. A little something gets lost and we have that infamous Struther Martin Failure to Communicate.

My red-neck neighbors were clearly getting ready for a party yesterday afternoon. Fire pits were being laid and there was great and agonized squealing coming from their pig pen. When the oldest son came up to borrow my table and stools, I was a bit surprised that he didn’t invite me to the shindig. As the trucks started to arrive, I could make out many of the same guests from another party last year. But, still, no invitation. So, I played on the computer until it got dark, had some dinner and went to bed – listening to the chatter and smelling the roasting pork and feeling just a little miffed. I mean, what kind of person borrows your table and then doesn’t invite you to the party ?? I know I may have not been the perfect guest last year, but I don’t think my behavior warranted banishment. As I recall, folks didn’t like it that I worked with the Kuna “they are animals”, and my story about Roof Dogs was proclaimed “stupid” and my grammar was constantly corrected – but other than that, I was well behaved.

Come morning, Mylin, the Mom came up with a big hunk of pork. Her son right behind her with my table. She seemed a tad angry “Why didn’t you come to the party last night?” “I wasn’t invited.” “Of course you were – we borrowed your table and Martin (son) invited you”. Martin sheepishly nods his head in agreement. “Well,  I didn’t hear it”, say I. She just threw her hands up like What kind of a dumb Gringo are you? We have a party 100 feet from your house and borrow your table and you don’t come? Sheesh !!!

So, I guess I went to bed mad for no good reason. I’m pretty sure Martin didn’t say anything. Or, if he did it was one of those mumbled teenage things. And I misread the cultural significance of the borrowed table. Like I say – It happens.

Anyway, the pork was delicious and the whole thing gets written up as “Failure to Communicate”.