The Peafarmers

Reader Contribution by Jerry
Published on November 2, 2016
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Peafowl. For many, the word conjures up images of majestic and exotic faraway places with beautiful birds strolling gracefully through a carefully manicured, formal garden. I was one of them. I had dreams of sitting on my front porch with a glass of liquid refreshment, watching my flock of magnificent peafowl strut across our front yard, accompanied by a soundtrack of 80’s punk. Yes, we march to a different beat at our slice of paradise. With visions like these dancing in our heads, a couple of years back we purchased a pair of peafowl and became peafarmers.

Before we got to know our birds real well, the hen took ill and died. We were never able to pin down the specific cause. Undeterred, we purchased five peachicks from a local breeder, and just like that, we were again peafarmers. Unfortunately, two of these five picked up some type of intestinal parasite and died. Our dream of being peafarmers was rapidly turning into some kind of macabre, Tim-Burton inspired nightmare. This was becoming an expensive endeavor, we were becoming discouraged, and something needed to be done quickly to rescue this dream.

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