It's not what you think...

OK, well, yeah...it IS my daughter in a cage.

But she's not doing a time out or anything...really.  She's catching the next chicken in our long line of beauties for the Fair Salon.

The world of competitive poultry requires either separate, full-time cages for everyone to insure cleanliness, or a day at the spa where we bathe, primp, and pedicure all the contestants before shipping them off to the Fairgrounds.

So this is Sapphire, the white silkie, getting her pedicure.  Everyone must have poop-free/mudfree toes and nails.

We only bathe those chickens who really need their feathers washed, since the process removes natural oils.  Not to mention the blow dryer time.

Here, we are dipping Cotton's nether parts in the soapy bath, since only her vent was a muddy, poopy mess.

(Doesn't that face say it all?)

So, yeah, I spent my Monday washing chicken poop off chickens and trimming toenails and fluffing feathers for a dozen of the family fowl.  Isn't that how everyone's week starts?

" Just a little off the top, dahling..."