New Blood

A former co-worker gave me 2 hens that she got last year. She lives in the country, and they are trying to downsize their animal burden. She tried long and hard to get me to take their rooster, but, too bad so sad, roosters are illegal in my city limits.

She brought me the girls, each in a cardboard box. They are beautiful - a gorgeous rhode island red, and and black and white barred hen with exuberant leg feathers. Anthony and I trimmed their wings late last night, then set them in the open boxes down in the chicken yard (a fenced area behind our backyard shed). Chickens act drugged after the sun goes down, and these two clucked themselves to sleep in their make-shift shelters.

Most of the time our hens are so quiet the majority of our neighbors don't even know of their existence. Not this morning. Lots of hen harrumphing. I went down to investigate.

The 4 established hens were bunched up in a little clique, patrolling the little yard, talking smack to the newcomers. The 2 new hens were on the other end, gossiping between themselves about these weirdos. "Brawk! Brwaaaaaah! brwaah brwaah brwaah!" "Brwaaaaaaaaaaah!"

It was worse than middle school. At least these big girls aren't likely to get carted off by a hawk.