I took a wrong turn at…Where am I?

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Whilst sitting in the front yard on Saturday, during our weekly farm stand, Paul and I heard a “rooster” sound coming from the creek.  We both mentioned how odd that bird sounded, like a rooster, but it couldn’t be…could it?  The next day, I was mowing the lawn and Paul says “Amanda!  There is a rooster crawling up on the hill.”  I couldn’t believe it.  Where did it come from?  None of our neighbors have any chickens to our knowledge, except for one man who lives two miles down the road and he raises bantams (mini chickens).  Oliver was quick to name him.  “Let’s call him Peter!”  Peter was locked into a call and response with our chickens.  He had to find them and he succeeded.  Stewart, however wasn’t so entranced by Peter.  He made sure he stayed away.  Donna, the polish crested hen, was in love!  She was so interested in him, maybe because he was the new guy.  Every day since, Peter has returned.  It’s nice to see him walking across the front yard, like a lawn ornament, or through the brush across the creek, he’s a wild critter.

peter

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Here he’s trying to figure out how to get in to see the babes.

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