This is Miss Chickie. She is the last chicken in my flock of 10... some of you may remember the great chicken massacre a few years back. Every morning she presents us with one beautiful brown egg. She is quite sociable, and spends each day after we let her out strolling about the yard scratching for bugs. About mid morning she wanders over to a hollowed out depression in the soft dirt near the fountain and takes a dust bath, fluffing her feathers up so the dirt can penetrate them. Her favorite activity is picking around the dirt and ivy under the hawthorn tree where the excess suet falls off of the bird feeder. There are often snails there which she slaughters with relish (no ketchup though). The tomato plants we planted have been stripped beyond repair with her sharp beak. Miss Chickie considers herself one of the family, and if the screen door is left ajar she will happily stroll right inside the house clucking all the while. This is frequently a problem because when Tobin (the dog)pushes the door open to go outside, he fails to close it behind him. Chickie used to put herself to bed, and all that remained for us to do was shut the door to the coop after dark. Now she has gotten lazy and instead jumps on the outdoor table near the door to perch. Each night we have to pick her up and carry her to the back forty and into the coop. Ah, the life of a chicken... not so bad.
14 comments:
Ah! Those good ole brown eggs!
:-) There is a German song - something like this: "I wish I would be a hen and would not have to do too much. I would lay one egg each day and on Sundays two ..." I always liked the song.
I bet that's a fine egg, too. Nothing better than the egg of a hen that ate a bug.
Awwwww...what a cute chickie! My sister one time (in the 70's) brought me home 2 chickens from a party that she was at. Obviously out on a farm. I named them Romeo and Juliet. I had them for about 2 weeks until we had a severe storm. I was outside crying and try to catch them to put under the porch but my mom grabbed me instead. Mind you I was only 11 and I cried like a baby when I couldn't find after the storm. I think they blew away....I think yours is one happy chick!
Cute story ;o)
Terry, your chickie story is much happier than Jillies. And I love her gorgeous photo as well! Something about chickens.....they are so dumb, but so very lovable! :D
miss chickie has the life alright..think she needs some friends.
Ahhhhh spoiled rotten and laying fresh what a contributor to the fam..
One egg a day. I think you need a few more chickens.
Hmmm. Don't think I'd want a chicken inside my house.
I mean, a live one.
How do you do Miss Chickie, nice to meet you :) I'm very pleased you have recovered from the racoon incident!
I guess she is now old enough so she doesn't have to be worried about ending up in the pan? Oh the self-confidence of those middle-aged women... :-D
Awww... this makes me think of Evil.
Evil was our pet rooster, we had him for 4 years when he disappeared. He was really quite beautiful. He spent his days wandering around, lurking in the shadows, stalking you. LOL
I always called him my 'watch chicken'.
Single chickens always prove that chickens aren't such stupid animals. They expand into individuals. Actually, I think we're the stupid ones, confusing group behavior with stupidity. Your hen looks delightfully alert, with a soft yet determined expression that reminds me a bit of my great grandmother.
One of my workmates had a hen that lived to twelve, and she was so fond of it that she had it put down at the vet's when it got too weak.
Tom & Icy - When I was growing up, my folks had chickens, and when the flock finally died out, Mom continued to buy the expensive store-bought brown eggs. They are just better.
SOe - :) I like that song - wish I could hear your singing.
Doug - She must have eaten much more than just one bug. (shudders) I prefer the egg.
Jillie - Ha ha! A party with take-home chicken party favors... pretty funny. They were probably both roosters that the partying parents didn't want. I'm sorry to hear of their untimely disappearance though - those are sad in the life of a child.
Kelly - Remember Mom and Dad's red hen that turned into a rooster after all the rest of the flock was gone? She began crowing every morning - and it sounded horrible!
Yellowdog Granny - Miss Chickie rules the roost. I think living alone makes her rather crotchety toward other chickens. One time she and her sisters used to beat up the smaller breeds of chickens - pecked one poor little gal until her skull was showing. The Bear suggested putting on a tiny football helmet - but we couldn't locate one - had to give her to the neighbor or she would have died.
Sister Celtic - can't help spoiling her - she is so funny. Happy as a clam (er, as a chicken)and very much a part of the family. We do draw the line at her walking inside though LOL
Dr. John - I remember when the whole flock was healthy and laying... I was swamped with eggs!! Since I had several breeds, I also received many varied sorts of eggs. I gave them away to my co-worker, neighbors and friends - not to mention we ate tons of them ourselves. It was a shame to lose each chicken because they were all special, but I do miss the over abundance of eggs. I think I'll get me a whole new flock after Miss Chickie joins the big rooster in the sky.
Diesel - ha ha - smart boy. Chickens are all good - dead or alive. I agree though - live chickens and their poop are best viewed in the great outdoors.
Birdie Anonymous - "Yes thank you, the pleasure is all mine. Those raccoons are murderous fellows! Do you have any treats for me?"
Ariel the Thief - LOL~ Miss Chickie would not ever worry about ending up in the pan - she has endeared herself too deeply into our hearts. I'd sooner eat my shoe.
Sherri - I remember your story about Evil. Maybe someone got an evil reaction to his crowing and offed him :( I once had a huge Brahma rooster named Goliath (he really was a giant - same breed as Miss Chickie). He crowed every morning, and though we were zoned for chickens, my neighbor hated it. One morning, I awoke to no crowing... someone had crept into the coop whilst we slept, and wrung Goliath's poor neck. I was so sad - and the kids were inconsolible. What a jerk and a coward my neighbor was.
Ms Jeanne: I love your description of your great grandmother :) Some of us are fortunate to have memories of our great's...I do of one of mine. Personally, I agree with you that chickens are smart. True, they are opportunists, but hey, they are for the most part, domesticated - so it is a real challenge to remain individual in a flock.
I dread the day when Miss Chickie is too old.
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