I feel like I'm back with the living. The exhaustion of Tuesday was so intense that I didn't fully get my wind back until last night. I guess I have to remind myself occasionally that I am a delicate flower, although I tend to regard myself as more of a carnivorous lily.
The little black spot is Sammy's paw. The chickens have gotten a little brazen lately: I think it's because a lot of the earth (except in the garden they're banned from) is hard and they've probably eaten every bug on the place. They've been making more and more forays onto the deck and into the house. When they're up on the top step, Sammy reaches out as far as his arm will go and try to touch them. He's still not sure of where they fit in the Davis household: 'they're your chicken-sisters' I tell him - but he's figured out they're not food.
Hey, I'm done eating chicken shit, can I go back in?

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