By Gertie

Greetings, loyal admirers and readers.

I understand my words are more sought after than that Mutha Clucka that usually writes, and that does my little feathered self so much good. After all, a regal bird such as myself should be honored.

I have heard cluckings through the chicken coop that a human queen has been celebrating her jubilee birthday, and apparently, a lot of people have been making a big deal about that.

Well, I’m here to say I’m celebrating a jubilee birthday as well this year, and I think a big deal should be made about that, too. OK, so I’m 63 human years younger, but considering how fast we chickens age, I say it’s the same thing.

That’s right, I’ve turned the ripe age of 7 years old this year as of the first of February.

I can barely remember the first few days when I was chosen to live with the Mutha herself, and my flock mates and I were city dwellers in a small backyard all to ourselves. Save for the occasional dog of the house, that would give a short chase asking us to play. It was quite cozy.

Then we had the whole news crew thing where we were being filmed and photographed and rumors that we would need to be sent to another place away from our cozy home.

I’m not sure exactly what happened, but all of a sudden, Mutha said we would be moving with her and then we were given lots of room to roam with grass and bugs and a nice, large draft-free coop. I also met my first gentleman caller around that time, though I wasn’t particularly fond of him.

Years have passed and I’ve had many new friends, and in my twilight years, I have finally found a feathered gentleman that is deserving of my affections, a beautiful barred rock rooster named Fritz that is around 2 years old, and he and I enjoy snuggling close to each other on warm nights. Exactly the happily ever after a chicken of my stature deserves.

Mutha keeps calling me her boss hen, and I appreciate that so much. She even lets me sleep on the top rung of the roost at night. I’ll give her that she recognizes royalty when she sees it.

I’m hopeful I’ll be celebrating year No. 8 in the future, and considering how good I feel at this age, I think I’ll probably make it. I just hope the Mutha does a better job of celebrating this next time around. I want the cameras back and the attention.

For now, I’ll take the opportunity she has given me to peck a few words out.

Until next time…

Gertie is the oldest bird at Purple Shamrock Farm in rural Seymour. Send comments to [email protected].