Anchor Struck

That’s not a grabber of a title for this post, I agree.  It reads like something a com-

mittee or a grant writer might cough up.  But it’s accurate.  I wanted to share what

I’ve learned so far about our birds.  “Chicken Chat” is too cute by half and “Hen

“House Hoopla” too cute by 2/3rds.  I rejected”Feathered Follies” out of hand.  So

let’s just accept “ppr” and put it behind us.

I still don’t know the girls all that well.  We’ve only named three of them so far.

Brenda is the blondest and Sally the second-most blonde.  They’re easy to spot.

The other four, however, are virtually identical.  We call one of them Houdina

because she’s an escape artist.  She got out of our enclosed garden once, and even

Slinkee couldn’t find her.  She showed up at the coop at dusk.  Problem is, we don’t

know which of the quadruplets she is.  That’s how sneaky she is.

I haven’t had much time to just sit and study them.  My early findings are from

watching them as I work on the coop or in the garden.  Here’s what I’ve learned:

          (1)  They’re more democratic than I’d been led to believe.  All my life

                   (except possibly the first three years) I’d heard about the famous

                   pecking order.  I’ve only seen one fight, but that was over a huge

                    juicy worm.  They all perch on the same roosting pole at night.

                    I don’t know how this spirit of equality will affect the rest of the

                    farm.  Jude and I already have an egalitarian relationship, save 

                    for my insistence on controlling the TV remote.  It could spread

                    through the garden, I suppose.  The kale and peas and quinoa could

                    organize for shorter hours.  The carrots, potatoes and chicory

                     might start an underground movement.

           (2)  They’re brighter than I thought.  I regret previous statements I made

                     about their intelligence, but fortunately they’re not smart enough to

                     read.  Example: there’s a hole in the temporary netting I set up until

                     I can build a proper run around the garden.  Sally found it right away.

                     I’ve blocked it, but she still checks it every morning as soon as I let

                     the girls out of the coop.

            (3)  They all prefer the same nesting box, even to the point of crowding

                     into it two at a time.  I don’t know if it’s because the box is the closest

                     of the five to the door, or because it’s painted black.  I’m going to

                     paint the pink one on the opposite end black to see how they respond.

                     Also, they lay their eggs throughout the day.  I had assumed it was a

                     middle-of-the-night kinda thing.

            (4)  They have an inquisitive peck that tickles, and a bite that hurts.  One

                     the girls bit me on the hand when I blocked her at the coop door.  I

                     cursed her, then went back to the house.  I said to Jude “I just told

                     one of the chickens to fuck off.”  It was time for a beer.