Thursday, December 11, 2008

Had me a little chicken...

...but now she's gone... only for a little while, yeah... It's a blues song, can you hear it?

We went to our friends A. & M.'s place last Sunday for a little catering job esposo did there. A. & M. live on a boarding school campus where M. is a teacher, and A. is a residence supervisor or some such title for one of the dorms where a group of teenage boys live. I was a little concerned that esposo might be overwhelmed by having to deal with 20 teenage boys at dinner time, but honestly, they were just an extremely nice group of kids. (Including the guy from Romania or somewhere who tends to answer questions with the opening line of, "Don't be stupid..." And? I think that is my new line whenever esposo asks me to do something. Don't be stupid, of course I'm not going to clean the cat box! Of course, this will only be effective if spoken in a thick Eastern European accent, otherwise he might just think I'm being a right royal bitch.)

So as esposo was cooking dinner, I was hanging out with our son, who is best of friends with A. & M.'s daughter H. At one point, A. tells me they have a chicken in their washroom, and do I want it? Apparently, the chicken had somehow managed to appear on campus, no one knew where it came from, and A. had to rescue it from a couple of dogs. So then he stuck it in his washroom, where it immediately went to work pooping all over the clean clothes, tools, and appliances. I went to see the chicken, and it was incredibly sweet. Let me pick it up, no pecking or trying to get away. So I sat with it in my lap on the couch for a while, and as I stroked its chin and feathers, it went to sleep. "It" turned out to be a "she," so I asked H. and my son what we should name it. H. came up with Chicky-Chicky Bop-Bop (hey, she's four!), though later I thought Francis would be nice, since she reminded me of my best chicken ever, Frank.

We took Francis/CCBB home, and called our friends E. and M., who have a nice little farmsita in Ciudad Colon, to see if they could chicken-sit for a couple of months while we get our act together and build a chicken coop. You see, we used to have chickens, lots of them, but after the great chicken disaster of 2007, I have been very reluctant to keep them again. I love chickens, but that incident hit me really hard and I was just so sad afterwards, I thought I would never want to keep chickens again.

And then Francis showed up, and I am rethinking. Chickens are nice. If you have never known a chicken personally, they have distinct personalities. I've had a few that were downright bastards (Foster! Worst Rooster Ever.), but most have been lovely. Frank was my favorite of all time; he loved to snuggle up in my arms and sleep, or jump up on my lap to see what I was doing/eating outside, or just follow me around the yard. Even though humans have tried very hard to breed intelligence out of chickens (because it's a lot easier to kill and eat stupid animals), they are not stupid. Birds in general are a lot smarter than we give them credit for (you should hear the stories Amy tells me about her parrot -- he's so much like a person, it's amazing!). Anyway, I love having pet chickens. E. and M. said we could take a couple more back with Francis when we pick her up in a month or two. I was a little worried when I stuck her in their coop last night (there's a reason they call it "pecking order"), but she snuggled up next to a black chicken sitting on a roost, and seemed just fine. E. said she was already part of the family.

Besides about 20 or so chickens, E. and M. also have two baby pot-bellied pigs, some hamsters, six dogs, three cats, a big tank full of fish, a rabbit... and I think that's it. And those baby pigs are about the cutest things ever. Next time I'm going back during the day so I can play with those pigs! They are too adorable.

Side note: Converstion between M. and me at her house, while I'm sitting on the couch with the chicken.
M.: It smells really incredible, doesn't it?
Me: Yeah, I forgot how stinky chickens can be!
M.: (laughing) I meant [your husband's] food! You can smell it all the way over here.
Me: Oh you meant incredible in a good way! I thought you were talking about the chicken! Hahahaha...

No comments:

Post a Comment