I was not at all pumped up about having Chickens. All Feathery and Pointy Nasty Feet. And I have yet to be able to slide my hand under any of their Butts in search of Eggs. Just NOT going to Happen. In fact I have to tell myself that the Eggs don't really come from a Chickens Butt in my Back Yard but instead they Miraculously appear in the refrigerator... in order to even be able to eat them. I'm like that with Venison as well. It must be packaged and frozen. Then re thawed before I can pretend its food. Before that. Its a furry brown eyed animal and I CAN'T go there.
My youngest loves animals of ALL kinds and was extremely persistent about having Chickens. Assuring her that it was NOT happening because we just did NOT have a place to keep them I thought I had that Battle Whipped. I forgot that she is cut from the same exact same cloth that I am and once she sets her mind on something NOTHING will stop her from making it happen.
I came home to the Metal Tool Shed being emptied of its contents and the Dog Kennel Panels rearranged around it and Her with a roll of Chicken wire fencing she was laying across the top. Big Smiles. Problem solved Mom. We now have a Chicken Coop.
I think we started out with 10 Baby Chicks. The cat Ate One. Buddy, the BigFatNewfieCollieCrossPoundDogHunterExtroidanaire, ate four of them. So now we have 4 Actual 'Working Chickens' and one Fucking Rooster. I hate Roosters. And I'm surprised my daughter doesn't also. She was attacked and scarred by a dog but she still loves Dogs. So there you are.
For my house warming present My Nephew, who loved chickens too, graciously brought me two Baby Roosters. I thought they were absolutely adorable. Running around together in the Field and the Yard. So Cute. I liked them a little less when they decided to Roost under my bedroom window on the Porch Swing. No matter how many times I locked the little bastards down in the Barn they'd end up Crowing ALL Night long.... under my Window...having apparently missed the Roosters Crow at Sunrise Class.
As they grew older they grew a tad more aggressive but I wasn't concerned. Little kick with your Toe and they backed right off. And SOooooo. I did not listen...... When Lacey came running into the house one day, sweating and out of breath, barely able to get the words out, "THEY TRIED TO KILL ME MOM".
She repeated this scenario every day for about a month, until I lost my patience one day and screamed back at her, "O for fuck sake Lacey stop being so Melodramatic. They are Chickens. They are NOT going to Kill You".
For the next month she refused to go outside unless she carried a weapon with her. It started with a shoe or rubber boot but quickly progressed into the handle of the broom. Her trips outside were quick and stealthy. I'd watch her sneaking around the trees and the rock piles while trying to make her way down to the barn to throw hay to the horse and I'd smile inwardly at her cute little game.
Then one day. They tried to Kill Me.
We were heading to the store. I had my purse in one hand. Lacey had her Broom handle in hers. She did her little 'thing' where she cracked the door open only slightly... poked just the top of her head out far enough to see around the door frame... then she took off like a flash for the car. I rolled my eyes and gave a Big Sigh.. thinking how tiresome it had become... and headed out to the car myself.
I heard the swooooshing' of the air being cut by feet and feathers first... I cocked my head to the side, pausing and listening and ......wondering. I barely turned and could see them literally flying at break neck speed around the Corner. Surely they hadn't heard the door open and were tracking us? These thoughts barely formed in my head when the first one came off the Ground, looking much Like a B52 Bomber... flew threw the air and Landed on my head! Talons dug deep into my scalp, Feathers Flapping Wildly as he was surely trying to lift my head off the top of my body. I'm screaming and dancing around trying to Knock him off. Complete Panic taking over. I manage to look up through the flapping wings to see my daughter poke her head out of the car and yell, "O Mom... don't be so Melodramatic... They are just chickens and will NOT kill You!"... and she slams the door shut and Locks it.
They didn't kill Me but not for lack of trying. I eventually whacked both of them enough times with my purse and legs and arms and I think maybe even teeth....
One hour later a 'skunk' or 'something' shot and killed them and they are buried somewhere in the Field... close to the Barn... 3 Feet Down. And I am terrified of Chickens to this day.
The lesson I have learned here. Listen to your kids. I mean seriously. All the signs were There.
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