Chickens

Now for those of you that have never had much intercourse with chickens you might still think they are cute and innocent scratching around in the dirt eating bugs and providing delicious eggs and meat, but after almost a year in this country I never want to see another chicken.

Sure, chicks are super cute especially right when they hatch, they are little balls of fluff that stumble threw their first day eating out of your hand and brightening a bad day with their sweet little cheeps. But watch out for the hen, she can be down right evil. And the chicks quickly grown out of their cuteness and are quite ugly. A about a month a go I was at a friends house while their chicks were hatching. Only four of the eight eggs had hatched, the hen and her four chicks were in the yard, the chicks learning to walk and scratch at dry red earth while the hen stool sentinel over them. If you came within a two-foot radius of those chicks the hen would puff up to twice her size and hiss at you. You didn't know chickens could hiss did you?

That evening as we were chasing the hen around the yard trying to catch her and not step on the chicks I had my first chicken related disaster when not watching where I was going but trying to grab an angry chicken I ran into a tree, it wasn't a big tree and my pride was wounded more than anything else, but it caused me to hate that chicken anyways. Once the hen ad finally been caught and right when we were getting reading to through out the eggs that didn't hatch and put the hen and the live chicks back in the basket I noticed that one of the eggs we though was dead was half open. The chick was trying to get out but didn't have the strength to do it. So I grabbed that little egg and hatched the chick, slowly pulling off the shell and reveling the quintessential chick, soft yellow down with watery eyes and the weakest little cheep. He could have been the model for all those Easter chicks. We put him back in the basket with his mother and siblings and called it a night.

The next day my little chick was having a hard time keeping up with his brothers and sisters, they were already excellent dirt scratchers and cheepers, he as an entire day behind. As the hen led her older chicks off into the linger grass my little pal kept getting left behind, we were worried he would get lost so we put him in a basket in the hopes that he would get a bit stronger and have better luck keeping up.

The hen eventually noticed that one of her little ones was missing and came back looking for him. She tipped the basket over so he could get out (or possibly just because she wanted to eat the rice we had put there for him) and tried to lead him away, but noticing what was going on I chased her away and put him back in his basket. That hen and I have never been friends since. I've always been told chickens don't have any memory, but this one dose. I'll be sitting on the porch minding my own business with my hand resting on the edge or my feet trailing off the end not thinking about or bothering the stupid chickens in anyway and she'll recognize my whiteness among all those lovely black faces walk right up to me and peck the S--- out of me. All I was trying to do was save her chick and this is what I get for it.
My poor little chick lasted for about a month, always trailing behind his siblings and never getting his fair share of the rice, before he eventually lost his battle and went the way of most runts. One day after a foray into the woods he simply never came back. I was sad for the little bugger, but I am finally getting my vengeance on his mother - she is currently boiling away with a delicious smell combination of tomatoes and onions. That was one chicken I was not sad to see end up in the dinner pot.