He Eats Chicks Like Donut Holes...

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
1

or: Why I Can’t Look My Loyal Black Lab in the Eye Anymore.

Mmmmm. Fresh eggs. That’s why three friends and I decided to order chickens through the mail. We’ve been planning (and building and reading) since January, in great anticipation of the day our cute little chicks would arrive at the post office. Not just any chicks. All hens from Murray McMurray (I just love saying that; Murray McMurray) Golden Buff Orpingtions and glossy Barred Rocks, breeds carefully chosen for their tendency to lay eggs all through our cold winters.

And, believe it or not, the post master called on Sunday morning to let me know I had live birds to pick up. Sunday Morning! I raced down, brought all 46 twelve hour-old chickens home, and set up the heat lamp and litter. I had turned on the radiant heat in the laundry room floor in anticipation, you know, so they’d feel nice and toasty. Each little pompom had to have her beak dunked into water, then I spent a good twenty minutes oohing and aahing over them with the kids before turning my back to call the others to let them know their chicks were ready to pick up.

This is the point in the movie when the camera tilts to the side and we hear tense, frantic violins.

We’re still not sure why he did it. Freddy is a dog that, literally, wouldn’t hurt a fly. I’ve actually seen him playing with half-dead flies. Maybe he was jealous. These things were pretty damn cute and getting all our attention. Or maybe it was something primal, some innate urge to eat chicken. I think we’ve all been there. But more likely, it was all that peeping. The incessant hopping and chirping that drove him mad, mad, MAD. Now we know where the saying “I don’t want to hear a peep out of you” comes from.

Oh, the carnage. The howls. (the dog howled too) My 7 year-old screaming, “OH! They’re DEAD, aren’t they!?!” as he ran to the living room and hid under the sofa cushions. Me, inadvertently stepping on chick carcasses as I pulled the dog (who had grabbed one last chick for the road, probably to even out the count) out of the room. The comical sight of of the survivors huddled on one side of the pen…Not a peep out of them, I tell you.

As the week comes to a close, our 23 survivors are thriving, Fred’s just emerging from the dog house, and I’m coming to grips with my guilt over the part I played in this little tragedy. While at dinner this week, my son asked what kind of chicken he was eating, meaning “is it fried or grilled?”. I said, “Dead. It’s dead chicken.” He gets it. A little perspective is a good thing.

But I’m still not feeling the warm and fuzzies toward my dopey lab who, when I think about it, probably just [lennie]pet the rabbits too hard, George[/lennie].

I’m just trying to remember when was the last time I ate a $58 chicken dish.

2

Wow. Amazing how nature works, isn’t it? This doggy who wouldn’t hurt a fly found it ok to eat all those chicks.

I had a similar experience with my dog eating an animal. Not actually an animal I had bought (or anticipated so highly - yikes!) but I have a very big place in my heart for bunnies. They are right under dogs in my “favorite snuggly wuggly animals” book and I like dogs more than humans, so…

Anyway, the first time my dog caught a rabbit I was absolutely crestfallen. She had it in her mouth and was running around with it (it didn’t die right away) and I was chasing her around the yard in the middle of the night, screaming at her and crying my eyes out.

But I couldn’t get mad at my puppy and there was nothing I could do to bring the rabbit back (by the time I got it away from her it was long dead). She was just doing what puppies do and I don’t think she’d understand if I’d yelled at her.

It was awful…and she did it again the next year. Ever since then, I flash the lights and whistle whenever I let her outside in the dark.

So sorry to hear about your chicks, Farmwoman. But I gotta admit, you do tell a nice story.

3

We’re all a few layers away from the Food Chain. Supply the right circumstances, and those layers just peel away, then splat!, food chain. Dogs (and Cats) are predators.

4

Take heart. Your dog is apparently fiercer than a tiger (or a whole litter of them).

5

Yeah, it is definitely a nature thing. However, this is a dog who plays with, lays down with, and licks our lambs. Our sheep have the cleanest ears in the county due to his diligent attention to hygiene. Maybe that’s it. He was looking for their little chicken ears.

6

Hmmm. 46 chicks, 46 human chromosomes. 23 remaining? Murray McMurray is the supplier? Madalyn Murray O’Hair is a well known atheist I smell conspiracy. Dog is spelled God backwards. He has caused meiosis!

7

Reading too quickly, I somehow managed to pull the word “assisstant” out of my ass and insert it in after “loyal black lab” in the first sentence.

Now that was a hell of a different story I was reading until comprehension dawned. :smack:

8

When I read “Eating Chicks like Donut Holes” I got an entirely different idea as to the nature of this thread

9

My Samoyed caught a rooster once.

Normally she’s the most peaceful buddha-like creature you’ve ever seen, but she was very proud of herself after catching that rooster.

10

Our Chow has a problem…or ‘a taste for’. Whatever…with baby bunnies. They’re crunchy, and he likes ‘crunchy’.

We raised chicks for many years, but we never had a problem with him ever eating them.
Of course, they’re crunchy, too.
I have no idea why he never went after the chicks.

I guess we all have our different ‘tastes’.
Live baby bunnies, he likes to eat.
Chicks? Not so much.

11

How about a dog that chewed the feet off some rabbits in a cage? The landlord told the tentant tough they weren’t allowed stock animals on the property. Dogs are allowed. Not my animals. I won’t revel more on this event. Dogs are not to be trusted around live smaller animals. One day they will decide it’s dinner time. Wait until a hawk catches one and eats it.

12

YOU are a sick puppy. You probably should not be allowed in polite company.

I thought the same thing.

13

My old landlord rescue a pigeon. As a result, it decided to just live in the yard with the two hunting dogs. They got along like the Three [del]Musketeers[/del] Amigos. The pigeon used to eat out of the dogs’ food bowl. Then one fateful evening, my landlord came hme to find feathers everywhere! Lots and lots of feathers.

14

I was going to say, “This is not the content that the subject line promised.”

I think the OP needs to buy her pooch some raw chicken boobs. Now that it’s had the taste, no poultry is safe.

15

I also agree.

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When reading the OP I thought: “How is this news? Dont all guys like eating chicks in the donut hole?”

Dogs are fun too though. I meant as in the OP you sickos!

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:: bursts in excitedly ::

:: see’s that this is not some street slang for cunnilingus ::

:: backs out of the room slowly ::

18

Sorry about the chicks! Add me to the list of Dopers who misinterpreted the OP.

I’ve been to McMurray’s – it’s 8 miles from here, nice place, very clean. I never knew there were so many kinds of chickens, and my folks used to work at a hatchery.

Our dog (part Lab) is also very laid back, but if there’s a bird on the ground, he’ll find it. He just sorta gums them until they’re limp and stunned and then spits them out.

19

That pretty much describes the scene in my laundry room. Thankfully none of them lived through it. If they had, I would have been forced to finish the job. :eek:

Apologies to the [del]sickoes[/del] posters misled by the thread title :stuck_out_tongue: I honestly didn’t get it until this morning, and I’m usually the one thinking “that’s what she said”

20

Smithsonian magazine once had an article on the Iditarod sled-dog race in Alaska.

Warning: May be TMI.

One pregnant sled dog miscarried while the dogs were in harness and racing along at top speed. The dog right behind it gobbled up the fetus from the snowy ground and kept on going.

::shudder::