Chickens!

Less than a week ago we had no chickens. The rooster crossed the road, went into the neighbor's pasture and never came back (so we couldn't ask him WHY he crossed the road.) The last hen disappeared one night, leaving only a pile of red feathers as evidence of her untimely demise. Even our two geese disappeared. We suspect they were run off by a coyote or dog in the middle of the night (much to the relief of our neighbors, I'm sure).

The last couple of months I've been checking Craigslist almost daily for someone who might be getting rid of some hens. I've seen lots of roosters, but not many hens. When I did see that someone was selling their hens, I'd call. They were always gone. Last week I saw that a woman was advertising Rhode Island Red and White hens. She lives in the same town as my parents. I called my dad at his office to ask if he might possibly (pretty please?) be able to get them and bring them down when he and mom came for Grace's party. Well, he wasn't exactly enthusiastic, but he was willing. That's all I needed. I called the woman. She told me I was the first caller, even though she had posted the ad the day before.

"How many do you have?" I asked. "A lot."
"Why are you getting rid of them?" I asked.
"Because they're too much work," she replied.
"O.K., could I have twenty then?"
"No problem," she said.

We then talked over the logistics of how she would fit twenty chickens in my dad's car (his very clean, nice car). She assured me she would have them boxed up and ready to go for him when he came to pick them up. She was true to her word.

My mom and dad said the drive down here was interesting. They had the moon roof and the back window open because the chickens were pretty stinky. The chickens were quite loud at first and my mom said, "Maybe they'll settle down once we get going." They did settle down a little.

Matt had the chicken house all cleaned out and full of nice new pine shavings in preparation for the chickens' arrival. They are doing very well in their new home. They're pecking order must not be working very well, though, as they're all wanting to roost within the same square foot, thus some chickens end up under others. You just want to say to them, "Spread out, there's plenty of room here," but then you realize they're only chickens with ganglias for brains.

A few weeks ago, I had resigned myself to the fact that I would have no fresh eggs until a year from now when we would have mature chickens again. Chickens slow down their laying in the winter, but at least now we'll have some fresh eggs. I can't wait to taste the first fresh egg omelet I've had in over a year, which wouldn't be possible if my dad didn't love me so much. (Bahk! Bahk!)