Column: A chicken’s clucket list


By Gertie

Hey there, everyone. It’s me, Gertie, your favorite guest chicken columnist.

Mutha Clucka isn’t very happy with me as of late, so she asked me to pen an article to tell all of the loyal readers of this column what I had done in trying to mislead folks recently.

It’s not that I was misleading anyone. I just had a breakdown in communication about what the Mutha wanted and what I was trying to accomplish on my clucket list.

A few weeks back, I was sitting happily in my nesting box, three eggs tucked neatly beneath my downy feathers. I was contemplating all of the wonders of the barnyard — where the best bugs are, when more spent brewing grain would come, when I’d get more fresh greens from a local restaurant in town, you know, chicken thoughts.

Mutha entered the coop that day and began stealing eggs, as she usually does, and this time, I decided I wasn’t going to let her get away unscathed. I pecked her calloused hands as she went to reach for my eggs and let out a vicious growl. To my surprise, she actually retreated this time and told me I could keep them this time, that she wanted to let me become a mother myself because of my ripe old age.

Now, this is where the breakdown in communication happened. I never intended on becoming a mother. I’m an independent hen who has five years of experience under my crop, and the thought of having to share my nest with some other creature really doesn’t appeal to me. I humored Mutha, though, and stayed put for the first week in the same nesting box. I was just happy I got to keep the eggs this time.

After a week or so, I decided I was tired of that nesting box and moved to one nearby. There were eggs in that one, and so I thought there wouldn’t be an issue.

Boy was I wrong.

Mutha walked into the coop that afternoon and was frantic to check the eggs that were in the original nesting box I had been in. She shined a light in each one and then took them out of the coop. She told me she was going to put them in an incubator to raise the chicks.

I think she thought I would stop sitting in the nesting box after she took the eggs, but I had my mind made up that I was going to stay in that nesting box for another week.

A few days later when Mutha entered the coop, she put a warm egg beneath me and told me to raise the chick. Excuse me!

Like I said, I never intended to raise young. After a few days, I must have had a moment of henopause because I ended up leaving that nesting box and no chick arrived.

I’m still sitting in the nesting box and growling at Mutha when she comes to steal the eggs, but she hasn’t let me sit on any more eggs for more than a day. It’s more of a game now between me and the Mutha, though I think she’s getting a bit frustrated with me.

I think I’m safe, though, in doing whatever I like because after all, I am the surviving member of the original flock. If the Mutha wants to raise chicks, she can do that herself.

Until next time…

Gertie is the oldest bird on the Purple Shamrock Farm at 5 years old. Send comments to [email protected].

No posts to display