Thursday 2 February 2012

14 Chicken scramble

so after years of my husband working with chickens I now own them, OK I had 15. Had did you get that? We started our chicken adventure two weeks ago, and you know the saying about the mechanic with the broken car....well we were the chicken expert with the broken down coop!
Our chicken gate was a old glass door, we were in the process of making a very nice wire one, until the fateful day arrived...
This fateful day was yesterday. DH and I were just sitting down to lunch when we heard fretful squawking in the general direction of the coop. DH bless his heart bolts out the door before I even have a chance to inquire about the noise. I can hear yelling and banging around, but was quite content to eat my grilled cheese, thank you very much. Little daughter #2 says mommy, Daddy's yelling! and I nod umhmm. Dh arrives a short time later looking a little mifed and says "didn't you hear me yelling"?  I reply with a smile and a big mouthful of cookie.
So we both head down to "the coop" to take stock. The chickens (the 4 left) are all pressed against the wire looking as though they would rather be anywhere but there.
Chicken feathers are strewn all over the outer enclosure and in the middle lays a plump beautiful ....dead....hen!
DH tells me that he had the neighbors dog cornered, contemplated  hitting it on the head with the shovel he had raised above his head, but seems how I took so long to respond to his murderous cries, thought better of the plan. He let the dog go growling at it the whole time, I guess the dog went from the hunter to the hunted!
So you see my friends, this is how I spent the rest of my day, looking for the rest of the chickens that "flew the coop".
I didn't find any yesterday but today when Daughter #1 went to feed and water the leftovers, there was Henny Penny The only smart chicken to come back to the free food, circus. On our way to the bus we spotted another one and all piled out of the van to try and capture this stray foul. I don't know who looked crazier the chicken flailing around or us driving to the bus stop with feathers in our hair!

OK almost at the end of our story but it would not be finished until I tell you of the burial. I thinking like a true farm girl was going to show DH what kind of grit this girl was made of, I, yes me... was going to bury my feathered friend. So I think to myself, where would a good site be? And trying to be the naturalist I choose the garden....#1 the soil is easy to dig, #2 it will make great compost right? So I did the hole pretty deep, I am congratulating my self...what's God say......Pride comes before a fall......I pick up poor dead bird with way in this green swampy land I'm touching that! And I plunk him into the hole..thud..Yes my measurements are a little off...who knew she was so big? So I think well, I will just push him down a smidgen and as I pushed a great squawwwk erupts from the beak of the dead bird......I scream and jump backward throwing the much for the pluck of a farm girl! After looking around to see that no one was looking I pick up my shovel and quickly finish the job! You know those rubber chickens are quite realistic!

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