I love guineas. They are better watch dogs than most dogs at announcing visitor and keep hawks, rats and snakes out of their territory. A flock of guineas make more racket than a T-ball team. They are wildish and rowdy…free spirits in every way. Guineas are the gypsies of the bird world. Vagabonds, every one.
Years ago we were given our first guineas by a dear little grandma we were privileged to live next door to until she passed away a few years back. These unique birds always remind me of her. I can still almost hear her imitating their call, “potlatch, potlatch”. We lost all our guineas as time passed, and I’ve missed having them around almost as much as I miss our little grandma neighbor.
This morning my DH suggested we go to the feed store to get that inevitable and necessary errand out of the way. My heart wasn’t in it, because my body is feeling every one of its hard-lived years today (…and then some), but it was a good idea, and I went along with it.
We pulled up to the feed store, and I hopped (almost fell) out of DH’s pick-up and went inside to place our order while he backed up to the loading dock. I got just inside the front entrance and noticed a biddy brooder sitting off to the side. I stopped to take a quick look and ooh and smile at the new life and turned to go to the counter to take care of business. There’s something special about newly hatched chicks that makes my heart soar with glee. The old gentleman that owns the store watched me checking out his birds and hollered across the room, “I’ve got guineas”. I did a double take and spotted the tiny quail-looking birds. My sweet DH didn’t know what hit him when he walked in. I asked if we could get some and he said, “ok”. I came home with 6 beautiful guinea keets. La la laaaa la. (The sound of glee soaring in my heart.) Aren’t the precious?
Until next time…
Don’t retire – refire! ~ unknown ~