Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Chicken Poem

The chicken is a marvelous bird,
She talks all day without a word.
I know the egg or happy cry,
I know when hawks are flying by.
She lets me know that she's about,
or when she's cooped, to let her out.
She tells me all about her day,
Without a single word to say.
She knows my voice, and when I talk,
But my words to her are just a squwak.

Chickens !!!!

This is a pic of some of the second flock of chickens I ever had.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Chicken Truck Chicken

On this Fat Tuesday Post it seems appropriate to post about my new chicken truck chicken.
She was rescued this past Saturday after falling off a truck on her way to the processing plant.
The fact that she was/is intact is the second miracle in and of itself.
The trucks are packed body to body with over fed, under cared for chickens, bumping and jilting around down the highway in the rain, sun, snow, whatever.
The wire cages are just big enough to let the bird turn around and are stacked 10 cages high and no telling how deep and wide.
Our bird managed to get out of or not make it into one of those cages, couldn't leave her friends, and fell off as the truck accelerated down the highway.
The miracles are adding up.
A kind driver, stopped, grabbed the bird and took it to the nearest veterinarian. (They are usually seen dead on the roadside and
we won't discuss southern drivers here, if you know what I mean)
My daughter who works at said vet called me.
I went right over and got the frightened bird.
2 weeks later:
The chicken is doing well these days. It was a rough start as my old chickens 'hazed' her into the pecking order.
She could not walk and tripped over her own feet.
Her breast feathers were covered in dried chicken poo. And she was not very feathered out.
I'm sure it was a result of temperature controlled houses and cramped quarters.
She was not sure how to get water and after a rain would get drops off the leaves.
She eats and drinks like a pro now.
She is starting to feel like a real chicken and take dust baths, clean her feathers and make chickeny noises.
I had no idea it would take so long.
She still is getting picked on and likes dogs, cats and people better than her own kind.
She is a sweetie though and I am glad to have her.
I am glad nothing was broken or damaged and that she is not processed with some broth and noodles.
She is a miracle.
Her name is Grace.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Chickens and Snow

We had a good snow yesterday.
It was fabulous, fun, beautiful and wet.
The chickens HATED it.
I let them free range so they could enjoy it and at first they refused to leave their coop and run.
They finally did when they saw us running around in it.
But they were not happy. Not one bit.
It could have been their fear of predators from the sky or just the wet coldness mushing between their toes.
ANYWAY, right before dark I went outside again to close up their coop and their little chicken snow footprints were in all the wrong places.
They were thrown off by the whiteness of everything.
I could tell where they had gathered and made a game plan near the blueberry bushes.
Then they went up to the fence and and back towards their food tin, but from the outside.
When that didn't work as planned they investigated the back of the coop.
Eventually they recognized the door to the run from the back and went in.
Their footprints told the whole story.
When I said good night and closed their doors, they let me know how upset they were with this white stuff.
Lots of chicken grumbling when they are usually quiet at bed time.
It was their first ever snow and it made me giggle.
The human family had such a good time in it and the girls considered it a nightmare.
I hope the footprints of our lives tell a Good story.
ce la vie.