Chicken and Egg - Janice Cole [70]
Thank goodness it wasn’t captured on film, for it quickly became more Keystone Kops than action flick. Don’t believe it when someone tells you chickens are dumb. They’re cunning, and they’ll outsmart you every time. They size up your weaknesses and exploit them. When Lulu was near my end of the yard, she quickly grasped that speed was not my strong suit, but I could zigzag, bend, and follow her into the brush. So she would zip past me in a whirl, avoiding the bushes. Marty, on the other hand, was fast but less agile through the brush, so when Lulu got anywhere near him, into the bushes she went. We tried to outsmart her by leaving her be and just sitting as if we had no interest in her at all. She knew better. As we rested she rested, and the next time we came near she ran at top speed again with twists and turns that left us dizzy. We kept at it for several hours.
I was getting angrier by the minute. Chasing Lulu wasn’t fun, she was no longer cute, and we were both sick and tired of it. We hadn’t even disassembled the coop, and we needed to begin packing when we were done with the chickens.
Finally, we had no choice but to get going. We began taking apart the coop and run, as Lulu watched from a hiding place. I must have sounded like a sick Mommy Dearest as I kept up a running commentary while we worked. In my loudest voice, to make sure she heard, I tried scaring her. “You’ll get caught by a raccoon, or a hawk, or a fox and you know what, Lulu? It will be your own damn fault and I really don’t care.” How sad is that? A grown woman trying to scare a chicken; I should have been ashamed. But I wasn’t. At that point I really didn’t care what happened to her. The days were getting shorter and it would be quite dark before we got back. Lulu would have no place to hide from predators. A chicken alone in the dark with no place to hide is an easy target. But we’d done all we could. We’d been patient and caring. If she was attacked, so be it. I felt a bit guilty, but there was no option. We drove off and left her.
This chicken business was getting more complicated than I had wanted. A few chickens running around the backyard are one thing. Hauling chickens and their coop across town is quite another. So much for chickens providing a calming influence in your life.
I breathed deeply, but couldn’t let go of my fear. I was mad but also worried about her. Cleo and Roxanne settled into their transported coop like retired seniors in their new RV. They got busy checking out the dirt in their new location, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Lulu was not with them.
It was dark when we arrived back home. The yard was empty without the coop, and I saw no sign of Lulu. I thought of her beautiful bronze feathers and her perky tail, but saw nothing.
We had lots to do inside, but I kept an ear tuned to the backyard. As we headed outside one last time, flashlights in hand, she suddenly shot from the brush and landed like a thud on the railing of the deck, daring us to catch her. This was our last chance. We devised a plan involving brooms, rakes, and a two-sided attack to force her into the garage. We were like commandos as we plotted and snuck noiselessly around the corner of the garage getting into position. She ran, but her only means of escape was into the garage and we shut the door, trapping her.
We still had another long session of chase-the-chicken as she flew from one corner of the garage to the other, but eventually she seemed to realize the futility of her situation and landed on a garbage can, allowing me to close my hands around her.
I was so happy to have my wayward chick back,