"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn

"ignore the story. see the soul. remember to love. you will never regret it" --- Seane Corn
it's a jungle out there

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Animal tails II

The first time I was bwave enough to mention to a friend that I wished for chickens, she looked at me like I had two heads. For the eggs I explained. Eggs??? You can get eggs at the gas station for like 99 cents a dozen. Exactly. Well, it took several years to get my wish.

Chickens... part of that sustainable, self reliant, low impact, local, healthy and dammit unattainable life for which I continually grasp. I'd read all about raising chickens in Mother Earth News, and had a few books of course. When we moved to a house with a yard, I responsibly called the municipal office to inquire about local chicken rules. The guy hung up on me. Hmmm...

For a few years, chickens were on the back burner.
Then one day, a fairy godmother knocks on our front door. Ms. Maria from across the street. Very sweet, very ethereal a little kooky
She's has an "assignment". She needs to give away a white egg, and white chocolate. She hands Mia a hard boiled egg, and a small box of candy. oooh treats. Then she says, now if I only knew someone who wanted a white chicken. B says Michelle is dying for chickens. There you go.
Three days later Ms. Maria drops off a White Plymoth Rock and a Rhode Island Red. They can't be alone, she explains. So you have to have at least 2. OK fine with me.

I rigged up a temporary coop out of an old doggy crate.
Spent the next 2 weeks building a movable coop. It's pretty cool. Has a nesting box, an enclosed area with a perch for sleeping, and a mini run with chicken wire walls. The kids and I could move it around the yard using lengths of PVC pipe as rollers and I'd talk to them about Stonehenge ok mom, the coop is moved, can we go back to our video games now? Not nearly as elegant and plumb as some coops, but I was quite satisfied.

During the day Barbara and Laura were the poster girls for free range hens. In the morning they would pace back and forth in the run until the door was opened for them. They'd roam the yard all day long clucking their happy chicken clucks. At sunset they'd march right into their coop, and we'd lock them up for the night. That first egg was like a miracle. And each egg thereafter was just as exciting. 

This is Barbara
big and white

This is Laura
kinda dumb

Funny. Once you spend a little time with chickens, it's easy to see how all those American euphemisms came into being. Pecking order, chickens comin' home to roost, hen pecked, flew the coop.

Right. Flying. 
Our backyard is fenced in, and borders the elementary school. About a week into chickening, I noticed Barbara perched on the back fence. Shit. Here chickie chickie chickie. Over the fence she goes into the school parking lot. shit shit shit shit. B's about to leave for work. B, you gotta help me get the fucking chicken. Oh, Chica you're kidding. B drives the minivan and I go on foot. There we are running around the school property like chickens with our heads cut off trying to corner and catch this damn bird. We're both completely wigged out at the idea of having to pick the thing up. Chica, what do you mean you don't know how to hold it? Well I kinda just dumped them out of the box they came in onto the grass. We finally bagged the bird with an old sheet and don't you know, the darned thing fell asleep as soon as her head was covered. just like they say.

After several other escapades, I figure out how to clip wings . And it worked.
No more flying the coop.
But alas, fall came, and with it early sunsets and night marauders. Raccoons. 

A raccoon took out Barbara. Gruesome.

Laura wandered around for days, crying. Yes, I really think she was crying, her clucking sounded so sad and lost. She was disoriented. She wouldn't eat. She stopped laying. When we were out on the patio, she'd come sit under my chair, just like the dog.  The kids thought she was confused by not having anyone to be a chicken with.
I think she was sitting shiva for her friend Barbara.

Someone said you'd better get her some friends or she's gonna die

Meet Jenna
a Light Brahma
it looks like she's wearing ostrich feathered mules

and Lil' Babs
a Barred Plymouth Rock
she's the plain sister

All the chickens lived happily ever after in our yard, scratching and pecking and laying yummy eggs. The kids loved them. The dog tolerated them. And they didn't fly away cause I clipped their wings...

Right. I clipped their wings. And this past fall, all three were taken out by nasty predators, maybe because they couldn't fly to safety. Brutal.

I miss the chickens.  Don't know if I'm bwave enough to try again. Maybe. We'll see...


  1. Uggh, you are talking me into it. We have cayotes though, so we'd have to get that part figured out.

  2. I can't believe I spelled coyote wrong!

  3. I used to love chickens when I was young and grandma had a chicken farm

  4. gweat post, michelle!


    the tall man won't let me...but you could have some!

  5. That's why we have ours in a strong pen- so the raccoons and other critters won't get them. We have hawks and owls, too. Big ones!
    And you know- if you hadn't clipped their wings, they might have flown to a street and gotten killed. Or a parking lot.
    So you did the right thing. Some things we just can't prevent. Snakes could still get in our coop and get some birds. I've seen them go into trees and get baby squirrels.
    You can do more chickens. You'll know when it's time. I say- in the spring.

  6. Oh- and I love the story about how you GOT your chickens. Who knows? Maybe another kooky and ethereal situation will occur which will result in chickens again.

  7. meesh?

    do you think we can convince ms. moon to adopt us? mommy wouldn't even know we were gone...

  8. I want chickens sooooo bad! (But I want eggs and meat both - I'm more practical than nostalgic.)

    I'm daunted by making a very stable coop, since there is no Mr. Moon here. And bt having a yard the size of a postage stamp which I've filled with garden and find no room left for a coop. Only space left is on the roof ... but I don't think that's very practical since it's about 30 feet up ...

    But when I buy my house, I shall get chickens, and I shall ask you a gazillion questions!

  9. Age-OH YES!!!. but we'd have to bring the kids. we could live in the coop with the chickens, or pitch tents in the backyard. and work the garden. and shop at goodwill. and NEVER SEE SNOW AGAIN
    I'm in

    Steph & Nola-I think those of us considering chicken ownership should enter into a Poultry Pact. You know, instead of getting pregnant we'll just get fowl. Anyone else wanna join?

  10. i know, i know! a TREEHOUSE!

    shade, breeze. halt! who goes there and secret passwords and yes, goodwill to all men...he he

  11. laura sitting shiva...that is pretty fuxking funny on so many different levels.

  12. What are you women plotting? You can't live in tents or the chicken coop. It is too hot!
    You could probably live upstairs in my house and I wouldn't even notice.
    Well, I probably would.

  13. Oh, I would take poultry over pregnancy ANY DAY. I'm in!!

  14. I make no promises regarding pregnancy.


so... wadaya think?

Your fairy is called Columbine Icedancer
She is a bone chilling bringer of justice for the vulnerable.
She lives in mushroom fields and quiet meadows.
She is only seen when the bees swarm and the crickets chirrup.
She wears lilac and purple like columbine flowers. She has icy blue butterfly wings.