Friday is a special anniversary at my house – it will be two years to the day that our most unusual Christmas visitor arrived. She appeared in our driveway from who-knows-where, in the form of a young wild chicken whom we (lacking imagination) named Chicken. She stayed with us for nearly a year. Well, in truth, she stayed around us – in trees, under decks, in the bed of a truck, behind crates and wherever she darn well pleased – allowing us to offer her food, in exchange for which she provided us with heaps of attitude and a lot of entertainment. She would resist mightily any attempts at physical contact, but she survived the cold winter and hot summer, the owls and coyotes and everything else that could have killed her.