Front Porch: Happy birthday, Miss Chicken

Miss Chicken is 10 years old.

Last week about a dozen of her most devoted fans – technically, we’re all members of her fan club – held our first gathering to celebrate the birthday of this formerly feral chicken who has lived a life of luxury these past nine years at the home of Joan and Jim Nolan in Spokane Valley.

There were sandwiches for the humans, wrapped gifts of dried mealworm treats and fresh cucumbers for the birthday girl and – of course – a birthday cake. There was no singing, however, except by Miss C, who did her own contented vocalizing to the delight of all of us in attendance.

I have been writing about this full-sized black hen of undetermined lineage for nearly 10 years now, ever since she showed up in our driveway one day in December 2009, a skittish young bird whose face then, and ever since, has had an expression that shouts “what are you looking at?” She was unapproachable, though she did munch up all the treats my neighbor Marilyn and I put out for her throughout that first year, then disappearing to sleep wherever she wished. She evaded the coyotes and racoons that inhabit our neighborhood – and survived.

When a year rolled by and the snows approached, Marilyn and I were concerned she wouldn’t make it if we had a harsh winter. So my husband pre-baited a live-animal trap, and over a week’s time, Miss C would gradually go farther into it for her treats, until the day she went in far enough for us to let the trap spring and capture her.

Prior to that, I had put the word out that I was looking for a home for her, and I actually went out interviewing people. Joan was far and away the winner. She has an evolving flock of chickens (currently numbered at 15) – birds unwanted, injured or unable to stay in their previous homes for one reason or another – and she cares for them all like royalty. I’ve often told my husband that if I die and come back as a chicken, I want to live at Joan’s house.

Joan figured that because of how Miss Chicken looked in the pictures I took of her when she first appeared in my life (she had bright yellow feet), she was likely born in the spring of 2009. Hence, though the exact date is uncertain, spring of 2019 is her 10th birthday.

Joan said a party was in order, especially because of her unusual survival story, adventures and misadventures. Besides, our gal is now the oldest in the flock and has lived longer than most birds of her size. Let’s party while we can.

“When Joan called, I had to listen to the voicemail twice to understand that she was throwing a birthday party for a chicken,” said Jerry Miller, a friend of Joan’s and a fellow chicken raiser and a fan club member.

We met at Joan’s house and visited with the chickens, posed for pictures and then retired to Joan’s shaded patio for snacks and conversation about chickens we have known and loved. Most everyone was amused at some of my reactions because, truth be known, prior to Miss C, the only chickens I had ever known were under plastic wrap at the grocery store. I literally cringed when Joan went to cut Miss C’s flight feathers after we delivered her to her new home. I was sure there would be blood and gore. I am a city girl, and pretty much everyone at the party smiled (kindly) at my ignorance.

No one at the party knew everyone there, but we all knew Joan, and it was because of her and our experiences with chickens that we were invited for this delightful afternoon. I met so many wonderful people, like Joan Ramm, whose Buff Orpington Dolly had been attacked by an animal last year, with a large portion of her back skin and feathers torn off. She remembered reading about Miss Chicken and contacted me, and I forwarded her on to Joan, who encouraged the other Joan in all her efforts to save Dolly.

In addition to the creams and disinfectants she applied to Dolly’s back, Dolly’s owner also created dresses or aprons to cover the wound that ran from neck to the base of her tail. She made one from an old sheet, cut to the size of a washcloth, with two four-inch slits for the wings. And, as the weather got colder, made garments out of old T-shirts, flannel and finally fleece.

Dolly will be a year old in August and is nearly healed and back again laying eggs.

“That’s what endeared Joan (Ramm) to me,” Joan Nolan said, “that she went to such lengths to save Dolly.” Once you’re a friend of Joan’s, you’re a friend for life, and there’s no better way to get there than through kindness to chickens.

Well, that’s how the day went. A lot of stories and a lot of laughter. And cake. And my favorite one-liner – when someone asked if Joan gets a lot of eggs, she said that the chickens produce eggs when they want to – but besides, most of her chickens have gone through hen-o-pause.

Miss Chicken is getting on in years and, frankly, has had some health scares. So the night after the party, as she does every night, Joan tucked all the girls in on the roost, then, before turning off the lights, gently picked up Miss C to give her the medication she needs to maintain her balance.

Then she quietly closed the hen house door so everyone could settle down for a safe and good night’s sleep – ready to greet sunrise for a new day of dusting baths and poking around the yard to see what’s new and delicious.

I hope to be able to chronicle Miss Chicken’s continuing adventures for many such days to come. Happy birthday, my little feathered friend.