Wednesday, March 26, 2014

The Survivor

This afternoon we received a package.  It was in a simple brown box and was given to us by some friends. It was a hen - a very wild hen - a feral hen, they called it.  They had been trying to catch the bird for a while now and finally caught it.  We traded them one dozen eggs, one bunch of Swiss Chard, and a bag of dried Criolla Sella peppers in exchange for the feral chicken and both parties were happy with the trade.

The chicken had been living in their yard for a while, roosting up in an oak tree and sometimes, for a change of scenery, in a lemon tree.  A wily old bird indeed.  But that's not the half of it.  This bird is gutsy, scrappy, a bird that has cheated death a time or three.  You see this chicken survived Mardi Gras in Basile, Louisiana. Mardi Gras in the country is much different than in the cities.  People go from farm to farm and chase chickens around, catching them.  These chickens will become gumbo for everyone that night during the festivities.

Our friend's son caught and rescued this chicken before she became gumbo.  She was missing many feathers and looking rough, but they took her home and she lived to fight another day.  In time her feathers grew back and she survived several altercations with neighborhood dogs.  Always a wild bird, she made her nests in secret places in the flower beds and they never could find the eggs.  A bird that they wanted for a pet never lost the wild streak and never became tame and friendly, so the Survivor now has a new home at our place.

Unpacking the box
She squirmed and squawked as I removed her from the box.  I'm not sure what breed of chicken she is, perhaps someone can tell me.  We were told that she lays white eggs.  We don't have any white egg layers on the farm, so we'll know when she's laying eggs.

Checking out the new surroundings
Now before I set her free, I used my clippers to trim the feathers on one of her wings. This will keep her off-balance if she tries to fly as I don't want her to fly over the fence.

Clipping her wings
I admire the survivor, fending off Mardi Gras revelers and dogs, both of whom wanted to eat the poor old girl.  But she's an over-comer and has defied the odds.  I'm hoping that she finds Our Maker's Acres Family Farm to her liking.

A wily and crafty hen
I sat her down and she familiarized herself with her new surroundings, happy to be released from the box and enjoying her freedom.  She stretched out her wings and tail feathers.

Home Sweet Home!
Just as she was relishing her Freedom, ironically in front of the Stars & Stripes I have painted on the barn wall, along came the mean old, Cornish Cross rooster and chased The Survivor away.  It'll take a while before the 'pecking order' is established.

The Bully
I went to pick up the box and saw the feathers littering the ground.  If the Survivor was going to survive, she was going to have to do so using her shrewdness and speed as she wasn't going to be flying far without fully feathered wings on her left side.

Feathers
This evening I went to check on her.  She's still surviving, but she's being kind of anti-social, hanging out in the old goat barn in the corner by herself.  I can relate to that. Sometimes when I'm in a large crowd with people I don't know, I want to quietly position myself in a corner, being self-conscious about being the 'new guy.'

The new kid in town
She needs to go introduce herself to the other chickens.  The new bird has upset the apple cart, so to speak, in the barnyard pecking order, but things will settle out in a few days.  I'm not worried about the Survivor.  If she survived being the main course for the Mardi Gras and survived becoming the main course for a pack of dogs, she'll be fine on our farm.

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