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Front Porch: Miss Chicken not ready to give up mothering

It was just a few weeks ago that I first cracked open some fresh-from-the-hen eggs for Sunday morning breakfast. They were medium-sized eggs from Miss Chicken’s 2015 group of babies, who were just beginning to lay. New to the task of egg-laying, the chickens’ first eggs weren’t as large as they will be in a few more weeks, but they were good, strong eggs and sat up most beautifully in the pan, their bright yellow yolks firming up enough to be transferred to the plate.

A bit of salt and pepper added and a delightful breakfast was had.

It was back in the month of December in 2009 that Miss Chicken first appeared in our driveway, feathers all shiny black and feet bright yellow. She remained in my yard and my neighbor’s for a year, eating what we put out for her and foraging at will – elusive to capture and smart enough to survive neighborhood coyotes and live on her own. Eventually, we did corral her – it was quite an adventure – and moved her to Joan Nolan’s safe haven in Spokane Valley. There Joan operates an unofficial home for retired, injured or otherwise in-need chickens.

I’ve been chronicling Miss C’s life ever since, and though I missed the December anniversary update, I thought it might be nice to start off 2016 with news from the barnyard. Besides, her fans have been asking me for a progress report, so here it is.

Life is good for Miss Chicken and most of the other chickens and two roosters in the yard. The two boys, Tokyo and Toshio, were raised together so there is no conflict between them. Since they are banties, their crowing doesn’t create much volume, so things are peaceful with neighbors.

As has happened a couple of times before, Miss C went broody last year. Most of the time Joan can just outlast these episodes with her girls, but she has a particular weakness when it comes to this determined chicken, and she almost always gives in. But when our gal got to setting, it was late in the season, so it was a little hard for Joan to secure a couple of newborn chicks for her to raise. Instead of March-April, it was June, so the three Plymouth Rock Partridges – Peaches, Penelope and Princess – that Joan slipped underneath her one night kept our formerly feral chicken pretty busy during the hot months of the summer.

And rather than following their mama all about, these babies tended to take off on their own in the yard, so Miss C spent a lot of time and energy chasing them down, rounding them up, gathering them under her wings when hawks were about and generally being the good mother she has been every time she has become one.

I know it’s not right to attribute human feelings to other animals, but I do wonder if because Miss Chicken had been on her own in her early days – without her own family of fellow chickens – she was especially more attentive to her own babies. I’ll never know, of course, but I like to think so.

What is especially interesting, Joan tells me, is that Miss Chicken has never truly weaned these babies, a process that should have happened by now. She treats most of the chickens from her earlier mothering just like any other ones in the yard, but she sees to it that these three are still on the roost next to her at night and pretty much still keeps tabs on them out in the free-range yard.

Joan likes to keep her girls amused, so she’s taken to using plastic bottles with holes drilled in them, filling them with grain and crumbles and tossing them out onto the lawn (when it’s weather-safe for them to be out there). As the chickens peck at them, they roll around like kong balls for cats and dogs, and the girls work for their reward that come out of the drill holes.

We’ve known since mid-autumn that sad news was coming, and it arrived on Jan. 2. Last year Joan took in a Black Frizzle who had been picked on by her flock mates. She was so undernourished that Joan had to go to great lengths to feed her, keeping her wrapped up in her own house and feeding specially cooked items with an eye dropper. Tinky Belle survived and thrived, but she took a downward turn this fall and it was clear she was on her last legs.

Joan doesn’t believe in letting chickens suffer and will have them humanely euthanized when necessary, but Tinky had been enjoying her food and didn’t seem to be in pain. Joan took her back into the house over the holidays and set her on towels and in a laundry basket. She fed her that special diet once again including cooked eggs, yogurt, toast and cereal. Tinky rallied for a bit and then, as was probably inevitable, she died.

“She had been our special needs chicken,” Joan said.

But in truth, they’re all special to Joan. A chicken couldn’t have a better life than with Joan and her ever-so-patient husband, Jim. Miss Chicken is getting to be one of the senior members of Joan’s 17-member flock, and she is very at home there. And safe.

Voices correspondent Stefanie Pettit can be reached by email at upwindsailor@comcast.net.

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