It was, as I have said, a fine autumnal day; the sky was clear and serene, and nature wore that rich and golden livery which we always associate with the idea of abundance. The forests had put on their sober brown and yellow, while some trees of the tenderer kind had been nipped by the frosts into brilliant dyes of orange, purple, and scarlet.... As Ichabod jogged slowly on his way, his eye... ranged with delight over the treasures of jolly autumn. ~Washington Irving, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"
Friday, September 24, 2010
How they treat a hen in Big Sky country
This is Henny.... She is a "house" hen. She doesn't sleep in the house, mind you, she just comes in for food. In the morning my friend "D" goes out and let Henny and Dwane (the rooster) out of the chicken house. Henny charges out of her beautiful little abode and immediately comes toward the big house. Up the steps she goes and if the door is not open she paces back and forth until "D" opens the door and then ....."here she comes just a walkin' down the street" or what I mean is.... across the floor. She is a chicken on a mission, a hen with purpose.
Henny is an Orpington breed (I think.) with a beautiful Wheaten coat and smarter than the average chicken. She struts into the kitchen and waits while "D" fixes her breakfast. Then with all the elegance a chicken can muster, she eats her special gourmet meal. This morning it was hard boiled egg (probably her own....the ultimate recycle) and some broken pecans, much more to her liking than the egg.
When she had her fill she started for the door. "D" called her and gave her one last, special, hand delivered goodie.... and then....out she went to forage on her own. With a flip of her tale feathers and a few clucks (...could have been "thank you", it's hard to know.) she walked out the front door and into the garden.
It is definitely a hen's life around here.
I, on the other hand, had to get my own breakfast. Hummph! OK, I know. Sometimes you just have to go with the flow. Sometimes you just have to do a little chicken dance and grab the camera instead.
I just hope Henny knows how good she has it. I think she does....
P.S. Please don't tell my hens about this.