CLUCK, CLUCk, CLUCK!!!
SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry! for skipping a Thursday post!! but it is Spring and I live on a farm and am married to a farmer....this means Spring is the equivalent to retail Christmas and it's long days and late nights. That being said, I'll begin this post....
It was a beautiful Spring day on the Shawhan farm. All the animals were bustling about their usual business. Jimmy and Charlie frolicked in the emerald pasture, their ebony manes flowing in the breeze... the steers lazed under the Walnut tree, enjoying the cool air that enveloped them there....the Spring chicks were chirping excitedly as they discovered how yummy grubs the grubs could be that were found in abundance in the dirt .... everyone was happy...except poor Henrietta.
"Henrietta! Henrietta! Why do you look so sad?" Asked little Cadburry 2.0 as she came tottling up to the forlorn looking hen who sat staring at her reflection in the waterer. Henritta just sighed and layed her cheek in her wing.
"Please, Henrietta..tell me what's wrong." Begged the brave little chick.
"I HATE MY HAIR!" Henrietta wailed and buried her face in her wings.
"OH!..." Cadburry was confused..."Is that all?"
"What do you mean, 'Is that all?' If I have ugly hair, which I do, then my left is over!"
"I thought your life was over if a weasel got in the coop or you ate the strawberries in the strawberry patch?" Cadburry asked, still confused and too young to understand grown-up problems.
"Oh, what do you know? You're just a baby anyway!" And Henrietta turned her back on little Cadburry 2.0 and spent the rest of the day sulking.
She was still sulking that night as everyone settled in the coop and took their places on the roost.
"Good-night Prissy."
"Good-night Smirnoff."
"Good-night Hannah Jo."
"Good-night Sam."
"Good-night Cadburry."
"Good-night Hot Lips."
"Good-night John Boy."
The next few days Henrietta's mood did not improve. All the hens in Flock 1 cornered me in the barn one day and told me their concerns about their friend. I waited a few more days to make sure it wasn't due to the moon changes and called my stylist and made an appointment.
Henrietta was very excited as we walked into the salon and Janette greeted us behind the counter. Henrietta loved the magazines of high fashion hairstyles, the sounds of hair dryers, the snipping of scissors and catching up on all the small-town gossip. (She even told us things about Foghorn!)
Thirty minutes later Henrietta walked out a new chicken who loved her hair. I drove her home, but not without stopping at Dairy Queen for a Blizzard, and as she jumped out the truck squawking with excitement, I couldn't help but smile and sleep better that night for making a hen happy.....
IF ONLY this were the REAL story.... The other day my patience with these chickens officially ran out. I have spent two long, hot days in the sun mulching my flower beds and planting flowers...up until this point in our Chronicle story. At the end of my second day, after the blaring sun started to set and it got cooler outside, my two escapees decided to dig numerous holes in my mulch... I guess they decided it looked better in the driveway. They also didn't like where I had planted three flowers and so proceeded to demonstrate their protest by digging them up.
Enough is Enough!
As soon as Dan got home I marched outside in my P.J.s, (this is when I pray a Yoder doen't stop in) scissors and Chickens Magazine in-hand (they had an article on clipping wings) and announce, "WE'RE CLIPPING WINGS!" Yup, I made the decision to do it....on these two birds anyway. I can't have my crops eaten and my hard work thrown out the window for a bird's happiness. Plus according to my article, it is a painless procedure.
I did what they told me to do. I fanned out a wing and cut back the first ten (the flight feathers). They said if I do it on only one side the bird will be unbalanced and unable to fly.
The next morning, feeling smug, I went out to the barn and there she was...outside and laughing at me. Maybe I didn't cut down far enough, or maybe I need to clip BOTH sides. No worries, I will try again and this time I will win! Because apparently, an UN-balanced chicken really can fly.
...cluck... cluck... cluck...
No comments:
Post a Comment