More Chicken Talk

     Yes, I talk to the chickens... and to the dogs, and the cat, and the squirrels, and the birds,  even the lady bugs...  But, chicken talk is really special;  I understand their lingo. And they know my voice, too. (I think they secretly tell each other, "Oh, boy!  Here she comes... the soft-hearted one... She'll give us extra food!!! Hooray!")


      Friday afternoon, Moshe let the chickens out again "to graze" in the yard. And, just like the day before, they seemed to have a wonderful time, clucking, and chirping, and crowing, and eating, and digging, and strolling.  A couple times Moshe and Moxie had to herd them out of the neighbors' yards and back into ours, but, for the most part, they were content and well-behaved...
     Well, come sundown, all the chickens entered the arks, as they had the evening before. All seemed well with the world...  After supper, Moshe went out to pull up the ramps on the arks. (This is done to keep it warmer and dryer "upstairs" for the night.)  He looked upset when he came back in, and he promptly announced that one of the black chickens was missing.  "Oh, no!" I said,  " It's going to be sub-freezing temperatures tonight, and if she's alive now , she'll never survive the night."  To which Moshe replied, "I really don't think she's alive.  If she'd been alive, she would've made it back to the ark like all the others."  We talked for half an hour or so, and decided that we are very blessed.  Everybody we know  that has chickens has lost several - or even ALL - of their chickens.  For us to lose only one is amazing.  Plus, God has given us several chickens - all the "peeps" from our neighbor, and "Chicken Little" who just showed up in out yard several weeks ago.  Yes, we are, indeed blessed. Still, it's hard to lose an animal when you've known her since she was only two or three days old...
  

A little Peep - only a few days old...

     Saturday morning I half-expected to see a dead black chicken feet-upward next to the ark. (Oh, I know... What an imagination!)  I had somehow during the night decided that she was alive and that she would try to get back in the ark.  This was not the case. No sign of the black chicken.  No sign of a struggle, either, like one would find if a chicken met up with a mean dog, or a fox, or a mountain lion.  We decided a hawk must have swooped down and got her.  We've seen several red-tailed hawks less than a mile away, so this seemed like the most plausible explanation.
     Around lunchtime, I told Moshe I thought I heard a chicken under the house. I have extremely excellent hearing, and I could've sworn I heard a chicken "cluck, cluck, cluck"  coming up through the air vent.  I heard it once in the bathroom, again in the office. It wasn't a "normal" cluck, either.  I told Moshe it was a distress call.  Patient man that he is, he went outside and crawled up under the house to look for the chicken.  Of course, he didn't find one... Plus, Beau (the stray dog we are trying to befriend) sleeps under there.  And, of course, a chicken and a dog aren't going to share quarters for the night! So, I gave up.  Said I must've heard one of the chickens out front and somehow it sounded like it was coming from under the house.  Sometimes, especially when it's rainy or snowy, sound travels in very strange patterns up here in these mountains.
  

   Last night it snowed about an inch or so.  When I got up this morning the temperature was 7 degrees.
Moshe's broken ribs were hurting real bad this morning, so I went out and fed and watered the chickens.  I couldn't help but look for the missing black chicken, even though I knew it was ridiculous.  As if on cue, a big hawk flew overhead, and I thought, " Yup.  That's gotta' be what happened."
  

About an hour later, I heard the sound again.  The  distressed "cluck, cluck, cluck" coming up the bathroom air vent.  Coincidentally, Moshe was outside at that very moment and heard it from the front yard.  Problem is, he was facing the chicken arks, but he heard the chicken talking behind him.  On further inspection, there was the "missing" black chicken up under the house.  Moshe fetched her out of there and put her in one of the arks.  Two hours later, she was STILL eating!  Poor baby.
  

Pretty Face peeking thru the snow

     Meanwhile Pretty Face has decided her babies are grown.  Or, at least, grown enough... She doesn't coddle her three peeps any more;  treats all the peeps as equals now, although the original three are still more likely to sleep with her than the others... Pretty Face is a talker!!! I mean, she talks a lot! She bosses all those peeps around like crazy. "Bud-up-up-up-up-up-up."  And, "Burrr-yee-awk!"  And, then there's the occasionally  true cackle.  One day last week, I thought, "That sounded like an egg cackle; I should check her house and see if she's laying eggs yet."  But, I was busy and didn't do it.  The next day, Moshe came in with four eggs from Pretty Face's house!  I  KNEW  it!  The true cackle is invariably an announcement of an egg.  This morning there were two of them in there.  Pretty Face  is back in the egg-laying business.
     So, I talk to chickens and chickens talk to me. I wonder what will happen if we get goats...

     P.S. Apparently a stray dog and a lost chicken  DO  make good roommates!

SHALOM  Y'ALL  -  TWYLA