I think this would be as good a time as any to point out that getting chickens was my idea from the beginning. Since Leah calls them "my chickens"—I mean, she says literally that, meaning of course that they're her chickens—she gets to go check their doors and food and things in the rain and dark, but that doesn't mean I don't care about them. I'm always on the look out for tasty kitchen scraps or extra greens from the garden for them, and yesterday I even brought them an almost-whole pumpkin I spotted in the street on our walk. They were very appreciative, and we didn't see anyone who knew us well enough to ask why I was carrying a smashed pumpkin. Cute little things, chickens. I've already put in my breed requests for the next batch.