Chicken Run

Yesterday I feel all nice and decide to go and check on the new chickens. Make sure they are feeling at home. It was a long drive and a cold night. I remember checking in on them (from the window) last night and wondering why they weren't enjoying the comforts of their pen. After a cursory glance in the morning, I notice that they had better have good aim if they are going to get into the pen. It is closed with a 6"x6" square in the middle. No wonder they slept on the cold hard ground last night. I am a bad host.

So, I decide to skinny myself into the cage. It seemed like okay idea...before I got in there.

You would think they would realize that I am trying to help them. Their eyes looked a little glassy and blood shot. Rough night. You think they would be rolling out the red carpet and moving out of my way.

To my surprise, there is poo flying everywhere. I didn't know that was a defense mechanism? I am guessing perching on your arm while you try to steady yourself is just to try and tip you over. Hurtful, not helpful.

So, I think it was this same chicken (who tried to knock me over) who decided to sneak behind me and steal out the first opportunity she could.

Why did I tell Shaun we would clip their wings later?

So, here I am on a lovely chilly morning...in my garments...stalking a chicken.

Stay calm. No sudden jerky movements. Round up the thing like a sheep.

Ok, unless I want to have two loose chicken, I better pen up the other. This is where I figured out that them chickens had plotted against me. Think Chicken Run. Because one of the chickens, the one that didn't escape, was in the pen. I didn't open it, so apparently they can fly their chicken bodies through that square. Foolish me. Praying on my kindness I tell you.

Pen up second chicken.

Try not to make direct eye contact with the loose chicken. Stroll casually behind the chicken. Spend the next 10 minutes nonchalantly strolling behind a jerky chicken. It should have a sign on her back that says, CAUTION: SUDDEN STOPS. I wouldn't even have bothered with the chicken if they wings were clipped.

It is after these ten casual minutes that the chicken realizes she has wings. I guess it takes a while when you have been cage your whole life. Free range eggs? Yeah, right.

One ungraceful hop/fly later I have a chicken on my brick wall who thinks she has found freedom. Her fate runs through my head. We have dog owners on each side. Dogs love chicken. Fresh chicken.

She starts tight rope walking toward her death.

I think quickly and go out into the alley. Forgetting at this point about the fact that I am naked and too focused on the fifteen dollars tight rope walking to certain death.

I decide to scare the chicken into jumping back into my backyard. One good juke and a twisted face and she is sitting their looking at my like I lost my mind. If chickens could laugh, she would have been rudely laughing in my face. I think the blank stare hurt worse. I step back and prepare for juke number two.

She jumps.

Into the alley.

At this point I am getting desperate and kicking myself for not cutting off this convicts wings. Forget strolling. I am chasing the chicken like a naked mad woman.

She is pulling out her football playbook and doing all these running back plays. Ten yards down, run to the left. You know, things like that. My defense is not good at reading chicken offense.

Up the alley, down the alley.

Two desperate lunges later and I have a limp chicken in my hands.

Oh, what, no fight? Giving up so easy? I ain't even...outta....breath.

I let her freeze last night. After all, she asked for it.

Shaun says I am better than Rocky. Something about chasing and catching chickens. Sounded very Karate Kid to me. I'll take it as a compliment.