Cock-A-Doodle-Doo!!!

Attention, please!  Attention!  From now on, I would like to be known by my self-proclaimed title: I. AM. CHICKEN. LADY!!

Lord, I love these chickens!  Who knew they could be so much fun?  I mean, I know most sane people don’t just go around wondering about chickens, unless it’s about what kind to eat, but they are fascinating! And, believe it or not, they share many of the same qualities as people.

Take, for example, the rooster.  Now, ideally, you would just have one rooster.  He is like a polygamous husband – lots of wives and children following him around.  Of course, being the overachievers that we are, we have at least eight roosters (we have some chicks that are still undeterminable).  No need to pay to watch a cock fight, folks… we have one here about every half hour.

The rooster does, however, perform an important job – he guards the hens.  Like a husband or father, he watches for danger as his brood eats or rests.  He also searches for food and lets the others know where he finds it.  And in return, he is allowed…ummm…privileges.  (*wink, wink*) Bob is our patriarch.  He makes sure that everyone knows his or her place in the chicken family.

The term “mother hen” is spot on.  Chickens are extremely maternal and will absolutely die trying to protect their young.  Just try to pick up a new chick and see what happens!  It is wonderful to watch her teach her babies how to pick and scratch for food or take a dirt bath.  Some hens are better mothers than others, just like humans.  Blondie is our matriarch of the farm.  Now on her fourth brood, she is the epitome of a mother hen.  She is the only hen who trusts us humans enough to allow her chicks to eat out of our hands.  I’m excited that we will have her blood line running around the farm for many generations to come.

The chicks…oh, the chicks!  Is there anything cuter?  Tiny and fuzzy…you can’t help but smile when you see them.  They are never more than a few feet away from their mother and instinctively know to hide underneath her when she gives them the signal.  And like human children, they grow too fast.  Blink once and they’re grown and out on their own.

Chickens have their own language, as well.  I wish I knew what each sound meant!  They have different sounds for danger, calling their chicks, finding food, etc.  And like babies in a nursery, once one of them starts raising a ruckus, they ALL start!  A symphony of clucks and crows…as beautiful as any opera!

Okay, I know I sound crazy going on about chickens.  But that’s okay.  I fully plan on being the crazy old lady down the street with 100 chickens in her yard.  For now, just call me CHICKEN LADY!!

Bawk, bawk.