Oh No! Where Are the Eggs?

The last time we were talking about the farm, Meredith was reading the chicken and dumpling recipe to the recalcitrant chickens. They got the message and began a daily habit of earning their keep. Five or six eggs a day began showing up in the hens’ nests. I always knew that chickens were pretty savvy.
The life of a “farmer” is harrowing as Meredith and Paul are finding out. Now that the chickens are doing so well, they have another problem to engage their attention. The “problems” have two names: Jasmine and Samara.
Jasmine sounds like the name of a beautiful, slender, girly Disney Princess, she is anything but that. Jasmine on the farm in Louisiana is an obese chocolate brown lab that has been put on a very strict diet. For some time now, Jasmine has been doled out, by her loving owners, a scant cup of low fat, tasteless dog food three times a day. (Oh for someone to dole out my food for me, I would lose those five pounds.)
It takes her about five seconds to inhale those dry pellets and then look expectantly up for more. But there is no more. Jasmine is like most of us Americans; she loves to eat. She has been a part of Meredith and Paul’s family for about six (?) years, and she thought she was the Queen Dog. Then along came Samara only about two months ago.
Samara is a silky, black, sleek Great Dane puppy — “a dog on stilts” Meredith calls her because she is already so tall. When that girl grows up, she will be able to have anything she wants. Right now, she is so gangly and awkward that she spends much of her time head over heels recovering from the latest fall.
Now Samara is a growing girl and full of adventure who sees the sadness in her chubby friend Jasmine at the end of every meal.
I am certain she is the one who led Jasmine into the present criminal activities going on around the chicken house. For certain, when I was there, I saw her wriggle her lithe body underneath the chicken yard fence just to get a little action out of the chickens. Such clucking squawking and flapping of wings you never saw. Immense fun for Samara. When do you think she began to notice those lovely, brown ovals and what made her think they were food?
I believe it was her older friend, Jasmine, who was hovering just outside the fence “egging” her on. “If you just squeeze through and dig a hole big enough for me to get in, I will play tag as long as you want, and I will even let you nip at my heels all day.” Jasmine being older and wiser should be steering Samara away from her life of crime, but the evidence is against her — against them both.
Now when Meredith and Paul go out to gather their eggs, all they find are broken shells and two very guilty dogs with “egg” on their faces.
All ideas for rehabilitation of these canine animals will be gratefully accepted. Life on the farm is never easy.
PATRICIA HALL