Hard to believe we were two months shy of our one year anniversary with Miss Scarlett, the little red hen. But it's even harder to believe she's gone. I think Dan and I are taking her death harder than either one of us expected-----probably because it wasn't expected at all! At least, not in such a shocking way.
I guess I need to back track, here, rather than assume everyone has a clue what I'm talking about! First of all, for those of you who are so far out of the loop you didn't even know we HAD a chicken, I'll offer a little background:
Last February our neighbor, Joe, flagged us over to his yard. (He also has a lawn business, and is our age, so he and Danny are pretty good friends---and Will's especially fond of "Over-There-Joe"!!) At any rate, much to our surprise he had walked outside to find a chicken scratching around in his front yard that morning. She was incredibly friendly, and let him pick her up without protest. He quickly set her up in a section of his back yard which has been fenced off from his dogs, and fed her whatever he could find in the kitchen. No "lost" signs were posted, and as the days passed Joe and his wife became increasingly fond of the little fowl (even though she wasn't giving them any eggs). Unfortunately, he also owns three young pit bulls who were becoming ever more intent on getting at her. As it was no secret that I've ALWAYS said it would be fun to raise our own chicken (for the eggs), two weeks after her initial arrival the little red hen joined our clan, and was given the very fitting name of Scarlett.
Thanks to the internet, within 48 hours I was an expert on chicken care and feeding! I discovered that the lack of eggs (and poor body weight) were simply due to improper diet and housing over at Joe's. So I practiced my carpentry skills in building a new home, and set out to fill her belly with all the omega-rich meals she could dream of! Happily, Scarlett plumped right up and immediately began showing her appreciation for the daily "buffets" by leaving one delicious brown egg every single day!!!
Like I said, I always thought it would be fun to have a pet chicken for the eggs. It was my assumption that the term "pet" was really a misnomer when it came to these feathered creatures. Boy was I WRONG! Truth be told, if I were to weigh the pros and cons, Scarlett may just qualify as the best PET I've ever owned! Chickens (when not part of a large flock) actually become quite bonded to their families---both the two and four legged members! And Scarlett, in particular, was fearless when it came to our dogs, cats, and four year old! She tolerated Will coming up to feed her from his hands, following her around making all the crazy loud sounds he could think of, and even giving her back the occasional petting! She loved to sneak up to the dogs when they were snoozing, then scratch out a little "nest" in their bushy tails and take a nap as well! (That is, if she wasn't busy pecking all over them in the apparent search for bugs!) Our cats were the only ones who had to be careful around Scarlett (not the other way around). I guess because of their size, she seemed to consider them a "food threat", and let them know it in no uncertain terms! For instance, if I bent down to pet a cat and Scarlett was nearby, she became convinced that I was bending down to turn over a rock and offer the hidden bugs to them! She'd come charging over, chirping her little "I mean business" song, and chase the cats until they were a safe distance from the "prize". When she returned to me triumphantly, I didn't have the heart to leave her empty-beaked, so I then had to FIND a bug or two!
Like I said, I always thought it would be fun to have a pet chicken for the eggs. It was my assumption that the term "pet" was really a misnomer when it came to these feathered creatures. Boy was I WRONG! Truth be told, if I were to weigh the pros and cons, Scarlett may just qualify as the best PET I've ever owned! Chickens (when not part of a large flock) actually become quite bonded to their families---both the two and four legged members! And Scarlett, in particular, was fearless when it came to our dogs, cats, and four year old! She tolerated Will coming up to feed her from his hands, following her around making all the crazy loud sounds he could think of, and even giving her back the occasional petting! She loved to sneak up to the dogs when they were snoozing, then scratch out a little "nest" in their bushy tails and take a nap as well! (That is, if she wasn't busy pecking all over them in the apparent search for bugs!) Our cats were the only ones who had to be careful around Scarlett (not the other way around). I guess because of their size, she seemed to consider them a "food threat", and let them know it in no uncertain terms! For instance, if I bent down to pet a cat and Scarlett was nearby, she became convinced that I was bending down to turn over a rock and offer the hidden bugs to them! She'd come charging over, chirping her little "I mean business" song, and chase the cats until they were a safe distance from the "prize". When she returned to me triumphantly, I didn't have the heart to leave her empty-beaked, so I then had to FIND a bug or two!
The list of reasons I'm going to miss that bird are endless. I'm truly finding it difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that I'll never again be woken up on warm mornings to the sound of a chicken outside my window, literally "singing" about all the delicious bugs she's finding! Or wiggling around and making her hilarious chirping sounds while scarfing down favorite meals or treats! Pet chickens want to be with their human flock as much as possible. This means that if you're outside, the chicken's going to be AT your side most of the time. When I sat down outside, she'd eventually nestle down for a nap at my feet, head tucked into her wing and making wonderfully contented "sighs". And whenever the opportunity arose, Scarlett also strolled on in to our house like she owned the place! (Two of the pictures above are perfect examples---one was when I walked into our bathroom only to discover a chicken standing on the bathtub! The other time I found her literally inside our open linen closet, sound asleep!) Scarlett, like all chickens, put herself to bed before dark, without exception. But if we went outside and turned on the lights in the warm months, she'd always come running out of her roost (on our porch) to make sure she wasn't missing anything edible! I'll never forget her groggy chattering as she investigated the situation, and decided whether or not it was worth staying out of bed!
When you picture the way most chickens spend their lives these days---in a 2'x2' wire box, with countless other chickens stacked above and below them---you don't expect the birds to have much in the way of personality OR mental capacity. I started out assuming that I'd be lucky if she learned to respond to the familiar sound of my voice, and that expecting her to learn to come to her name was ridiculous. Once again, I was wrong. She not only learned her name (and several nick-names), but she learned several phrases that were directly associated with extra-special food morsels! For instance, "Here you go, girl" meant "mealtime", and she KNEW it! (Nothing in the world could lighten my mood better than the sight of that fat little bird lifting up her wings and hauling butt across the yard every time she heard those words!) Other example phrases are: "Here's one", "Look, look, Scarlett", and "Right here"---all of which pertained to bugs, rather than prepared meals. We'd be out in the yard together and she'd scratch around several yards away while I peeked under heavy objects. When she heard one of those phrases announcing the discovery of a tasty morsel, she was on me like white on rice! Man, that girl was fast! If either a dog or a human started running within Scarlett's line of sight, she'd drop what she was doing and take off after them----not chasing, only hoping to beat them to the FOOD they were obviously running toward!! (Why else would anyone run, right?!) In the summer I'd actually dig up little sections of dirt and race her to see who could locate the worms first (I'd try to cover them with my hand before she could reach them with her beak). I MIGHT have beat her three times out of hundreds! Usually she was literally in the process of consuming the worms before my brain even had time to register seeing it!!!
Okay, I know I've rambled on about Scarlett forever, so I'll stop myself and get on with the sad part. This afternoon I discovered a gruesome scene in and around Scarlett's roost. Hope had been acting crazy last night, and I had finally decided that she was hearing some sort of critter under our porch. In retrospect, I wish I'd allowed her access under there to flush the "critter" out, because apparently it was lying in wait for a chicken dinner. Based upon the evidence at the crime scene, the most likely suspects would be a fox or a coyote. (You wouldn't believe how specific all of the little predators are as far as what they do or don't leave behind!) Based upon our location, I'm thinking a fox is the culprit. When I first discovered the mess, I was literally shaking. I've always been incredibly stoic at times like this (living on a favorite street for speeders has taught me to be able to suck it up and retrieve lost pets for proper burial). But this time I couldn't even look around for fear of seeing more than just feathers and blood---I literally thought I'd pass out. The good news, if that's possible, is that on cold winter nights chickens sleep DEEP (in contrast to her warm weather habits, these days she never so much as stirred when we'd come outside and turn on the lights, etc). Also, my CSI skills lead me to believe that the whole ordeal was over pretty quickly for her. Had it been a raccoon or opossum (or even a domestic dog), the suffering would have inevitably been much more drawn out. Eventually those facts will help my heart. But for now, I just hurt. Even Danny has been in a state of shock over the loss. In pet-losses past, he always made clumsy attempts to console me (while obviously not feeling all that sad, himself). But this time he's clearly feeling the loss on a very personal level, as evidenced by statements such as: "I'm just gonna miss Scarlett so much, Sandy! I mean, she was a member of our family!" Those of you who know how animal-friendly Danny generally ISN'T will appreciate what that says about the unique charm of our pet chicken! Will, for his part, remains blissfully unaware of the whole ordeal. (And I have no idea how it's going to play out with him in the future.)
Well, on that note I'm finally going to bed. (Will pulled a VERY late night on me tonight!) Until later, SANDY
