Chicken Boy

We have 3 cats, 4 chickens, 2 ducks, 2 rabbits, 3 fish, 1 crawdad, 100 Madagascar hissing cockroaches, one hamster, a one eyed toad, an ant farm, and a worm farm. At this zoo of a home, you must love animals, large and small. Conway's nickname is "The Little Red Fox", duly given because of his prediliction to disappear into the hen house intent on smashing every egg he can coax away from the guard chicken, Magnolia. I found him in there last week, squeezed into what is a glorified dog house, only the back of him visible. I asked him to pass Mommy the eggs, he complained, but obliged. He kept grunting, "Noooo, ahhhhh Booooom". Obviously baby for "No thank you mother, I would rather smash each of these eggs upon the ground". Apparently in a British accent. Babies, so uppity. I noticed that he kept using one hand to pick up eggs and pass them to me. When no eggs remained, he turned around in the coop, and it was at this time I noticed he had Magnolia, our banty hen, neatly tucked under his left arm. She looked grumpy. He looked grumpy. Both had been bamboozled out of their eggs. Conway tried to exit the hen house with Maggie still under his arm, but could not fit. The scene was straight out of a Three Stooges flick. Conway and Maggie kept bouncing back into the coop, with no hope of fitting side by side through the small exit. Conway finally accepted my help after I explained that he could catch Maggie again. He scrambled out quickly, scooped her up to the safety of his arms, whispered something into her ear, more British I'm sure, and kissed her on the beak. Off they went, a 21 month old and his best friend.