My friend Alice (a woman whom I greatly admire & who once mail-ordered a box of bees which arrived with the queen scotch-taped on the box bottom) was out of town at the same time as her husband. She elected me to care for her 9 chickens & 4 cats. (In some momentary lapse of reason, I thought the cats would be of help. What? From what fresh hell did that notion spring? The cats were in it for the Temptation treats alone. I had thought better of cats. but no more!)

I know chickens like I know the footnotes to Atomic Science, Volume 4, which is to say a vast area of nothing stretches black where that knowledge should be.

My first a.m. chicken care routine was  a splice of Marx Brothers Meets the Chicken Song (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msSc7Mv0QHY) vs. King Kong. I’ll give you one guess as to who got to be King Kong.

The cute little red & white water container wasn’t properly latched, so when I upended it after filling, the bottom fell off & the water poured out down my legs to soak my Hey, Dudes! (Which have become HeyChicken! shoes, complete with all natural manure trim.) Muttering, I put the hose nozzle into the cylinder a second time, & this is where Atomic Science 1 kicked in, as the water spouted right around the cylinder up onto my glasses. And shirt. And whatever else was dry. So much for the coffee shop visit I had planned for the way home.

My neighbors are now closing their doors when they see me approaching with egg cartons.

As all things become, this has been a Learn Lesson for me. E.g.,

• chickens do not come on command or cajolery;
• chickens can run very fast despite their shape & the fact they tip pretty far forward at full speed;
• There really is a “pecking order” & one does not want to be at its bottom; ever.
• if they don’t know you, it’s harder to get them into the coop for the night as they can dash for the door & angle right past it even as you smile in triumph;
• if one delays & you attempt to strategically open the door to scoop it in as it passes in front, the other eight will zip outside & you get to start all over again.

So many fun facts to learn on the fly! So many ways to test the fairly new vow to stop cussing out loud!

One large orange hen whom I named “Trumpette,” quickly perceived my King Kong persona as she wandered aimlessly away from the coop door each night. With a piercing “squawk,” she ran, dodged, held a side-eye on me, carefully positioning herself behind a spiky green cactus. She believed she could escape Monster-Me by camouflaging her orange self behind a green plant, whilst standing out like a grilled cheese on the barbie. I keep telling her, “you’re orange” but this had no effect. She took being chased quite personally, vocalizing “UMBRAGE!” as I attempt to guide/chaperone/direct/conduct/startle her, into running for the coop door. We had several conversations in chicken & I think she got personal in more than one of them. After ten minutes of this choreography each night, she would slip thru the door while I stood like Paco Pedro, sans red cape, awaiting the moment to usher her in.

Last night I waited until almost dark to go. The wind had zoomed up to slamming doors, pinning gates & tipping cacti before I went. I pictured feathered beachballs in the hen-pen blown about in gusty slaps & taking refuge in the coop. In the typical way of chickens; however, only Trumpette was on the perch while the others ran right at me on arrival.  

Don’t tell Alice, but I’ve been using the popcorn treat as a come-on, tossing a handful in the coop to get them inside. By the way, they prefer real movie popcorn to the Dollar Store version of the same name. I hope this fact helps you out one day.