Oh Servus! I was browsing Der Spiegel today (do I have to have a reason?) and came across a heartwarming article linking compassion and euro in a daisychain of economic and psychophysical relief. The headline read, "Brothel cuts rates by half for senior citizens". Given the legal and respectable nature of prostitution in Germany and the fact that the economy is the vurst since ze vohrr, a perfect marriage. Rates are only good between 10am and 4pm, you must be over 66 and you can bring your spouse. Hmmmmmm, only four and a half more years...........i'll be covered by medicare in case I get Bulgarian herporrhea or a heart attack. Ahhh, the golden years. This part may be creepy to some. We've been witnessing acts of outright cannibalism amongst the leghorn population. By the time we noticed the bloodied feathers on the first three or four, they were gettin' pecked down to the flesh and then some. Had to isolate them in some old bunny cages w/food and water supply to see if they would heal up and not continue to indulge in behavior most unbecoming. The majority of wounds occur at the base of the tail feathers where the baby feathers still reside and provide scant cover for the succulent flesh that tastes just like a whopper. Well, we've been pulling them out for the last few days and keeping them isolated to groups of no more than four or five and they seem to be recovering nicely. I decided to give doc Bebockboc and nurse Sally a shout and they told me to call the nursery, find out what they say and then get back to them if I had any more questions. I thought that was kind of a strange response until I called the nursery.

"Hi, this is Margie at Ahdeel Powtry, how may ah hep you?" "Yes, I bought some birds which you shipped last month and the Leghorns seem to be eating each other. I mean literally. Are they cannibals or what?" (jokingly) "Oh yes sir, they ahr." "Really?" (incredulously) "Oh yes sir. Once they git the taste of bloooood, they cain't stop." "But the Reds are so docile and calm and don't even seem to shit as much. Is there anything I can do, because this is totally unacceptable." (In kind but firm tones) "Well sir.....................hold on, ah'll ask." "O.K." "Yes sir, the owner Jerry sayd that you need to get some of that Camphophenic, just like the kind you have in your medicine chest aind paint that awn the birds, or just get one a' them big ol' toenail clippers and clip their beaks off. He says that the production Leghorn are fiesty like that." "I'm sorry, we don't mutilate our birds here and don't you think it would be appropriate to tell your clients about a habit like that? I mean, do they behave that way as adults, or do they grow out of it?" "Hold awn sir, ah'll ask... O.k. sir, yes, Jerry says they are like that as adults as weyll."

At this point a time out was called for, so I reached for the last of the animal tranks that Doc had slipped me and knocked it back with some Johnny Black as I mumbled that i'd phone back in a few days and we could talk about it. She said they "wanted to be of hep if they coood." Phew, what a relief. I was going to send you photos of exposed and bloodied flesh, documentary style, pointing out the dangers of hybrids pushed to the edge, but opted for recovery room shots instead. Nurture over nature. We've started reading the "Greenleaf guide to Vegan Cookery" to them and have some "Ghandi on nonviolence" tapes in the mail. The oldest of the Knucklehead Consortium, i.e. the pair of four year old Black Australorps started laying on the ides of March. Co-inkydink or the foreshadowing of hard boiled doom? I'm going with the triumph of the light, as in happy equinox and here's to an unmatched laying season. The youngsters should be online in time for our thirteenth annual fiftieth birthday party. We've got fresh avo, atemoya, citrus, papaya and we'll be cutting a stalk of bananas in the next few days. Plenty of greens as well as the usual pile of miscillany. Running a bit low on chocavopousse but the sharwil avo is kicking in just in time to provide a little extra fruit to amp up the supply. A clockwork green. So, as March grunts and groans its way out of pretending to be tough, and warmth and light win the northern hemisphere over, go plant a seed that has nothing to do with greed. The more you come, the more we'll grow. Peace, Jp