I'm outside, pruning the fruit trees, and notice several sets of beady eyes looking at me from a short distance away. Undaunted by the stares, I continue trimming, and then start pulling up the weeds from the base of the young fruit trees. Before I can blink twice, I'm surrounded by voracious, determined chickens, tearing up the ground where the weeds once were. Any sleeping worm, pillbug or grub is instantly gobbled up.
Spouse and I once idly discussed: if we were to drop dead on the pasture, who'd be the first to start chewing on our carcasses? Dogs, geese, ducks, or chickens? We both agreed, hands-down: the chickens.