Not really… but kinda. Maybe I should explain:
Meet Eddie. As in “Eddie Izzard“. We thought he was a she. We called her “Lucy”. You know what? Let’s just start at the beginning, shall we?
asshole person dropped 4 chickens off on our dirt road. At first, we (the four people sharing this dirt road) all thought they belonged to each other, and they had gotten loose. Once we realized that they belonged to none of us, there were only 2 left. Living on a dirt road in a rural area screams “DANGER! roaming foxes, fishers… oh, and bear”. Not exactly the safest environment for chickens. One was a gorgeous reddy, turquoise one and the other, plump and white with lots of black speckles in her feathers. Pretty. She always followed the red one. They roamed up and down our dirt road. I was determined to catch them.
I put out corn. They ate it, but as soon as I approached, they quickly waddled away. On one of my morning walks, with Finn and Rose, we came across a pile of black and white feathers. It made me sad. And then mad! Why would someone dump chickens on a dirt road? How cruel. They didn’t stand a chance.
I was even more determined to save the last remaining hen. She was just as determined to tough it out in the ‘wilderness’…. each morning when I saw “my” hen, I said a prayer of thanks. And put out more corn. I began to put it in a dog crate…. which I surreptitiously moved closer to the house when I knew Lucy wasn’t looking. We added Lucky to her first name when she kept showing up for breakfast.
One evening after the Big Guy and I had chased her around the yard, out back, and into the woods, aided by sheets, big towels, you name it… we were spent. It was getting towards dusk so we figured she’d won one more night of freedom. As we sat at the table, catching our breath and laughing that a hen could be so tough to catch, we heard all kinds of commotion and clucking! All of a sudden Lucy came charging into the yard and fast on her heels, a fox! Big Guy flew out the door, hollering and waving his arms. The fox took to the woods and we took to Lucy.
We finally cornered her in our barn. I gathered her up, she was so soft and was clucking quietly, as if to say, Thank you. I put her in Finn’s old kennel. She was not going to be fox food.
The next morning my mother-in-law and I had made plans to attend a chicken swap because I was going to get Lucy a possé. Chickens are flock animals, and if I couldn’t catch Lucy outright, I was figuring on luring her in with the promise of friends.
However, at around 6 am that morning, I awoke to crowing. Loud, raucous crowing. What the hell? Heading down to Finn’s kennel in my bathrobe, there was *ahem* LUCY crowing to beat the band. I busted out laughing…. why hadn’t I noticed the gorgeous plumage? The sheen of the feathers? The rich colors? This wasn’t a hen, but a young rooster- no big tail. Yet. But a big voice.
Lucky Lucy became Eddie Izzard (overnight) and we went to the swap to get him some ladies. Located in Chichester, New Hampshire, we left around 8 am and drove till we saw this:
Right this way.”So meet the girls: Beyoncé, Miriam, and No-Name. Beyoncé is big breasted and bold. Miriam’s the little girl and our ‘middle’ hen still has no name. Suggestions anyone?