The latch that fastened the door to the chicken coop broke sometime yesterday, either in the wind or bumped by a cat or donkey, and the chickens were locked out of the barn last night. We checked on things around 5, but not later. The donkeys were up at the top of the hill grazing, and when we went out this morning, we found a trail of Toot’s feathers up on the stone wall, where they must have tried to roost, up the hill. There were no signs of trouble in the barn, no leavings or feathers. Toots is definitely gone, the Zen Hen. Meg is missing. She might be hiding somewhere or in shock, we’ll see. Ironic that the only chicken walking around is the wounded Fran, still unable to lift her wings or jump more than a few inches.
We are considering whether or not to get some chicks from Agway in a couple of weeks. Today is a big day, apart from that. We are going to get inside the farm we’d like to buy and get a better feel for this place we are very drawn to. Also, this afternoon, I am taking my first photo lessons from Christine Glade in Manchester, Vt. Very excited about that.
Living with animals is a roller coaster, for sure. I am definitely attached to Meg, who I call the Hen Of Entitlement, and who has been a character in her time here. She seemed to transcend the simple life of a chicken, going where she pleased, riding around on the backs of donkeys, hopping into the feeders. One of the many things I love about life on a farm is that it teaches me so much about life, and how to deal with it. Maria, too. It is upsetting when any animal comes onto the farm to kill the living things I feel so responsible for. To discover one morning something that is a part of your life has been killed, dragged up a hill and eaten. But good for the fox, too, and his kids. We all need to pay our bills. This is life, certainly the fate of chickens. Learning that life is life, not tragedy or drama, is a great gift for me. I told Maria that we ought to go right out and get more chickens, and then print up some notecards to honor Meg and the gang. We like having chickens. The milkhouse would make a terrific and secure roost. I will not be thrown off my course by life.
Which is not to say it doesn’t hurt.