Tails and Tidings: Chicken In

You might be familiar with the ups and downs in our chicken-keeping saga. A lot has happened on that front lately, so I think we're due for a little update.

We started with four chicks, two of whom were roosters, so we had to part ways. That left us with Lenore and Hot Sauce, and we immediately welcomed Pippi, the Barred Rock.

At this time, we also pre-ordered three started pullets of rare breeds. That's right, fancy chickens.

It was only a matter of time. We picked them up a couple of weeks ago, and have been getting acquainted.

From left to right, they are a Gold-Laced Wyandotte, a Dark Rhode Island Red, and a Blue Wyandotte; Priscilla, Cholula, and Vilma, respectively. So far, they look girly, but I have said that in the past. I'm trying to get better at spotting rooster saddle feathers and quickly-developing combs. Until we're sure they're staying, we're holding on loosely. That is to say, with love, If you crow, you gots to go.*

*I just now made that up, and it will be one of the BU mottos until we move to enough land where crowing will not be a deal-breaker.

Right now, they live under what used to be our kitchen table. Cozy! They spend their days in a little cage on the lawn, and their nights under the new coop, which brings me to my next little update: Please imagine a tall lovely lady in an evening gown, flashing a smile as she walks backward, gracefully lifting her arms and splaying bejeweled, manicured, jazz-hands.

A Brand New Coop! Fully insulated! Ventilated! Made from scrap materials, without a plan! With a removable floor, for easy cleaning! Let's hear it for Geza! Can you spot the kitchen table in that marvel of Hungarian Design and Engineering? It's in there! I attached wire mesh to the bottom, and Geza outfitted it with a door, so there's a lower level for Cholula, Vilma and Priscilla. We thought it best to keep them separated from the big hens*, who might get mean.

*From left to right, Lenore, Pippi, and Hot Sauce.

And maybe they're allowed to be mean, as they are delivering big hard eggs on a daily basis. I'll overlook a little crankiness in exchange for this.

That's right. Double Yolker, all the way. This is what it's all about. And there have been several of these. The single yolkers are pretty awe-inspiring too.

While we were waiting for eggs, our chickens gave us something else, a little lesson in "behavior loops"; working with others is all about those little functions of our attention spans in which we all operate. It's hard to explain, but easy to illustrate. You know, it's not all smug smiles and egg cups here at the BU. Sometimes, things go awry.

Say your goat prys your chicken gate open with her face, and your chickens end up in your barn, where they find an open door, and wander into your neighbor's yard. You know, just for an example. What do you do?

Well, if you were me, several months ago, you would break into a cold sweat and start yelling for people to come help you. This, just before launching into a panicked toddle, with out-stretched arms. You would notice that chickens possess a magical ability to glide just out of reach every time you swoop your big primate paws into the surrounding bushes. Did I mention the mocking laughter of the neighbor children? You hear that.

This is why I am glad I married a Chicken Whisperer.

Geza does a lot of the daily chicken duties and is learning, and teaching all of us (me), to chill out. Just calm down. If you chase the chicken, it starts running and you can do that all day, stupid.

Sorry, but you are stupid if a chicken is leading you around in circles in your yard.

If you stay cool, and wait for a second, the chicken kind of forgets that it was locked in an Eternal Struggle for Freedom, and goes back to looking for something shiny to peck at. Sometimes, at this moment, it is possible to catch the chicken. Other times, a person might be surprised to find the chicken walks back to them and sometimes struts right into the place it is expected to go. Once the battle dynamic is no more, they can go any which way. The chickens end up where they need to be, to be safe, without cursing injured humans and squawking birds.

I've decided that this is a valuable lesson, even if you never see a chicken for the rest of your life. Sometimes a struggle can take on a life of its own, and it won't be resolved unless one of the creatures involved can understand that and maybe even relinquish the moment. Let go. The end result becomes an open situation, with a greater number of possible outcomes. Success might become so much more likely that it just happens on its own, or maybe you have to wait that loop out and try again a little later. Even if it takes a while for things to happen as you planned, at least the neighbor children aren't laughing at you, and isn't that a good thing? Let them go back to their cable television.