Our chickens have no boundaries

I half expect them to run through the house singing Snoop Dogg. 

I'm pondering a fall post all about pumpkins, Halloween, & red and gold leaves (I am an unapologetic fall enthusiast. Bring on the decorative gourds. Bring on the excessive use of pumpkin spice. A witches hat makes me terribly happy.) but in the meantime, here I bring you pictures of our chickens.

When I leave the back door open - as I am wont to do in the fall - they have grown bold in their determination to check out the house.

I call this one, Caught Eating the Dogfood.

This one, Copper Doesn't Give a Shit.

And this one, well, it's not in the house, but it is Pitch hiding in the neighbor's bushes. I jumped off the couch yesterday because someone was sitting outside our house honking. When I ran outside I saw it was our beloved neighbor who gleefully told me to run and take pictures of the chickens in her bushes.  

I like to call this one, Pitch Doesn't Give a Shit.