Tag Archives: Poetry

A-Hunting We Will Go

Through tall green grass and prairie flowers,
the hunt goes on for hours and hours.
Two friends go out and raid the field,
to find a mouse, a mole…a meal.

Gray Echo, who seems sweet, but sly,
stalks prey low to the earth and sky.
Sweet Boots, with stripes of black and gray,
announces kills throughout the day.

One morning both were on a quest,
to find the biggest and the best.
First Echo jogged up with her kill,
and calmly crunched and ate her fill.

Then Boots walked at a steady pace,
Meowing proudly, with strength and grace.
They both enjoyed their breakfast treat,
a little fur, a lot of meat.

Rooing the Day

When Ray and I decided to get chicks again, we agreed that we only wanted layers for eggs. We went with the bigger layers so that when they were ready for retirement, we’d have some nice meat for the freezer.

“Chicks,” I said. “Let’s get ’em.”
“We’ll be home for awhile.”
“Why not?” he said. “Let’s do it.”
We both shrugged with a smile.

We brought our new flock of 8 home and the boys immediately fell in love with them. We handled them daily and played with them as much as we possibly could. Joe named one Crystal and a few others Cheep and Peep. Jake called one Pupil and the rest were The Sunny Sisters.

At first, they’re cute and fuzzy,
with the sweetest little cheeps.
Then they grow real feathers,
and sharp claws and razor beaks.

One of the Buff Orpintons was quite a bit bigger than the rest. We thought that maybe it was just older or maybe just grew at a faster rate than the Red Comets. She quickly claimed the alpha position in the flock.

One buff was big and fluffy,
her feathers had a shine.
She nipped at all the others,
keeping them in line.

And then, one morning when we were moving them outside for some fresh air…we heard it. Not yet a full-throated crow, but the early attempts of one. Ray, deep in denial, said that hens sometimes crow too.

“I’m sure it’s not a rooster,”
my husband shook his head.
But I knew we had one,
so I just smiled and said…

“I know you’d like to think that,
but you should hear this crow.”
He hung his head, defeated,
“I just don’t want to know.”

He is right. There are times when a hen will take the alpha position in a rooster-less flock, but it is rare for a young hen, only 10 weeks old, to suddenly start crowing.

Especially, with no rooster in area to mimic.

So…

Cock-a-doodle-doo!