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| First Contact |
Epilogue:
After being permanently crippled by BenTheMeanRooster, RC made her home inside with us for the remaining 1.5+ years of her life.
I'd
like to think this was a humane decision as she'd always been at the
bottom of the pecking order no matter new additions to the flock and her
compromised physiology made it dangerous and unhealthy to remain
outside with the others.
And though it wasn't an ideal situation for her, it certainly beat the alternative.
She continued to be an unusual case, a character, Rogue Chicken in every sense.
Suspicious Chicken morphed into House Bird and we became her new flock, cats included (an amusing dynamic.)
She
even adjusted her schedule, staying up late and past sundown to hang
out eating dinners together, watching movies and enjoying the fire.
Such an odd and endearing creature. Always my favorite, this unique gal.
So
spoiled, of course, with us making arrangements, concessions, additions
of all sorts as we attempted to enhance her environment, activities
(she went on lots of adventures and was a good traveler) and life in
general.
Yet just like a little old lady, she gradually
declined; her atrophying legs relegating her to Pillow Chicken status
leaving us to move her about, taking her to the 'spa' after soiling her
fowl diapers (which she seemingly loved, including the feather
blow-outs), and creating lavish, inspired meals to entice her appetite.
Often
nodding off and mute when greeted unlike before when she'd welcome us
home loudly from the other part of the house, she was fading and life
shared with her simply became palliative care.
It's a sad, soul-sucking endeavor to watch a loved one slip away.
Even if it is a damn chicken.
Now she is gone. Shed her mortal coil. Into the Earth, crowned by a
coral rhododendron to match her coloring. With the others: in
HeartThoughts Meadow.
Her void hasn't sunk in, meaning I still
step in a wide arc around the floor heater where she lay and when I
peel carrots, I intend to save them for a treat.
Her 'room' (which was very nicely appointed and redesigned per her changing needs) has been restored to its origins.
On
my way to the utility room with the laundry, I catch myself glancing
over to check on her condition and have a brief conversation.
But it's empty,
She is gone.
She was some chicken.
And I'm absolutely beside myself.
###
RC is my favorite chicken.
Oh shut up, you can so have preferences, and I don't even feel guilty about saying that to her in front of the others.
It's because she is most deserving.
RC stands for Rogue Chicken and she has proven herself to be one bad mofo.
"How in the hell did Brigid get out?" I asked of whatever cats were in the bedroom, though mostly myself since they are cats and CAM was out of town for work.
Zabby Dog must have awoken me early to take care of business because it was too soon for my brain to turn on for the day.
But I did have the wherewithal to realize this wasn't a good development.
So I went outside with her and immediately saw that wasn't my Buff Orpington at all, but rather some mystery bird trying to make nice with my 2 on the other side of the fence.
Extremely skittish, she ran quickly out of reach and managed to hide herself pretty well so that I couldn't get a very good look at her.
Still groggy with sleep, I returned to bed thinking, "I hope she goes back to where she came from because I don't want to deal with that today."
But no, there she was hours later.
And this is where the gears of the Chicken Lady mind start to crank.
"Well I'll have to catch her and put her into this cat carrier and go up and down and the street and actually *talk* to my redneck neighbors to find out if they're missing a chicken."
"And that'll need to happen in a couple of hours since I'm going into town today."
Or not.
Again hoping that the bird would have gone back to wherever she'd come from upon my return, I shouldn't have been surprised when that wasn't the case.
She was so damn stubborn. or smart, as it were.
Every time I tried to trick her into getting into our pen, she'd bolt.
Eventually I was able to corral her there, but when I went back out after the nightly phone conversation with CAM, she'd disappeared.
Which was in some ways a relief, but it was curious as to how she'd actually gotten free.
My speculation was that the other 2 bitches gang rushed her and she was able to gain enough purchase to flap over the top of the fence and high tail it to friendlier environs.
Out of sight out of mind worked for me and that was the end of it.
Until the next morning.
This went on for several more days; she'd be skirting the edges of our coop and then hang out with Large Marge and Brigid before retiring to some secret spot in the wild next door every evening.
And it simply wouldn't do.
That she'd not been killed and/or eaten during her liberation was nothing short of a miracle.
When CAM came home, he'd have no part of it and was finally successful in trapping her to the more confined hutch/kennel.
Not happy. But safe.
(We know now it was unwise to toss a random hen which we were clueless about in with our existing flock before quarantining a month beforehand, but again- learning curve!)
We were able to get a good look at her and determine she was an Ameraucana (or an 'Easter Egger', which doesn't sound very Latin) and had a substantial part of her back end missing.
We were also agreed that we were going to keep this bird; no one seemed to be searching for her anyway.
Backstory, please, Miss.
Peculiar timing no doubt:
our alpha-hen, Black Australorp Lucy-Lu, had just died not a week before which left the flock of 2 in a bit of flux. Poor RC quickly took her place at the bottom of the pack and it broke my heart to see her try so hard to fit in, only to be rebuffed.
Perhaps I'm anthropomorphizing their situation, but they didn't seem to be particularly kind to her.
And yes, I realize it's the natural chicken thing to do, but it was still sad.
Happily, though, we'd made previous plans with Farmer David to pick up 2 pullets and dear RC took them under her wing and showed them the ropes like a marvelous big sister.
It's been a little over a year now and she remains at the low end of the totem pole, but those wicked pecking spells have ceased and the flock have found their order.
She's got personality and tends to be a loner at times.
She responds to conversation and has a cute way of eyeballing you when you call out or are doing something which intrigues her.
Her eggs are a light teal and she is a prolific layer.
And she is gorgeous.
That tail grew back in and her silhouette is stunning.
The multi-colored feathers at the base of her neck swirl around like a stole.
In March she was hobbling about so badly that we needed to confine her to the cat carrier to heal; however, the injury coincided with CAM's birthday beach trip, so we just packed her along.
Nothing is more amusing than traveling with a hen.
We let her out to stretch her legs inside the yurt and it was neat to watch her explore the new environment. She was also uncharacteristically social and trustworthy, as if she knew all this nonsense was in her best interest.
Around Easter we discovered a clutch of eggs next door in the wild greenbelt, many looked as if they'd been there for quite some time as plant matter was nestled amongst them.
I surmised this was where she'd been laying prior to our abducting her permanently, putting them at about a year old. Eeewww.
Wondering why nothing had ever gotten to them, I nonetheless kept a sporadic eye on the spot afterwards.
A few weeks later, all but one egg was gone.
We keep track of who lays daily and she'd come up short recently, which wasn't like her.
Then I found out why.
She'd gone back to that spot.
Stumped, but knowing I had to break her of this immediately, I kicked up the nest and put those eggs in the proper nesting boxes.
Reinforced the barrier between the properties and kept all birds longer in the pen every day than usual (until they'd laid.)
It seems to have worked and she's back to where she should be, but that lapse still confounds me.
RC remains an enigma: it is because of that, her survivor history and lowly status that makes me favor her.
And did I mention that she is beautiful?
It's because she is most deserving.
RC stands for Rogue Chicken and she has proven herself to be one bad mofo.
"How in the hell did Brigid get out?" I asked of whatever cats were in the bedroom, though mostly myself since they are cats and CAM was out of town for work.
Zabby Dog must have awoken me early to take care of business because it was too soon for my brain to turn on for the day.
But I did have the wherewithal to realize this wasn't a good development.
So I went outside with her and immediately saw that wasn't my Buff Orpington at all, but rather some mystery bird trying to make nice with my 2 on the other side of the fence.
Extremely skittish, she ran quickly out of reach and managed to hide herself pretty well so that I couldn't get a very good look at her.
Still groggy with sleep, I returned to bed thinking, "I hope she goes back to where she came from because I don't want to deal with that today."
But no, there she was hours later.
And this is where the gears of the Chicken Lady mind start to crank.
"Well I'll have to catch her and put her into this cat carrier and go up and down and the street and actually *talk* to my redneck neighbors to find out if they're missing a chicken."
"And that'll need to happen in a couple of hours since I'm going into town today."
Or not.
Again hoping that the bird would have gone back to wherever she'd come from upon my return, I shouldn't have been surprised when that wasn't the case.
She was so damn stubborn. or smart, as it were.
Every time I tried to trick her into getting into our pen, she'd bolt.
Eventually I was able to corral her there, but when I went back out after the nightly phone conversation with CAM, she'd disappeared.
Which was in some ways a relief, but it was curious as to how she'd actually gotten free.
My speculation was that the other 2 bitches gang rushed her and she was able to gain enough purchase to flap over the top of the fence and high tail it to friendlier environs.
Out of sight out of mind worked for me and that was the end of it.
Until the next morning.
This went on for several more days; she'd be skirting the edges of our coop and then hang out with Large Marge and Brigid before retiring to some secret spot in the wild next door every evening.
And it simply wouldn't do. That she'd not been killed and/or eaten during her liberation was nothing short of a miracle.
When CAM came home, he'd have no part of it and was finally successful in trapping her to the more confined hutch/kennel.
Not happy. But safe.
(We know now it was unwise to toss a random hen which we were clueless about in with our existing flock before quarantining a month beforehand, but again- learning curve!)
We were able to get a good look at her and determine she was an Ameraucana (or an 'Easter Egger', which doesn't sound very Latin) and had a substantial part of her back end missing.
We were also agreed that we were going to keep this bird; no one seemed to be searching for her anyway.
Backstory, please, Miss.
Peculiar timing no doubt:
our alpha-hen, Black Australorp Lucy-Lu, had just died not a week before which left the flock of 2 in a bit of flux. Poor RC quickly took her place at the bottom of the pack and it broke my heart to see her try so hard to fit in, only to be rebuffed.
Perhaps I'm anthropomorphizing their situation, but they didn't seem to be particularly kind to her.
And yes, I realize it's the natural chicken thing to do, but it was still sad.
Happily, though, we'd made previous plans with Farmer David to pick up 2 pullets and dear RC took them under her wing and showed them the ropes like a marvelous big sister.
It's been a little over a year now and she remains at the low end of the totem pole, but those wicked pecking spells have ceased and the flock have found their order.
She's got personality and tends to be a loner at times.
She responds to conversation and has a cute way of eyeballing you when you call out or are doing something which intrigues her.
Her eggs are a light teal and she is a prolific layer.
That tail grew back in and her silhouette is stunning.
The multi-colored feathers at the base of her neck swirl around like a stole.
In March she was hobbling about so badly that we needed to confine her to the cat carrier to heal; however, the injury coincided with CAM's birthday beach trip, so we just packed her along.
Nothing is more amusing than traveling with a hen.
We let her out to stretch her legs inside the yurt and it was neat to watch her explore the new environment. She was also uncharacteristically social and trustworthy, as if she knew all this nonsense was in her best interest.
Around Easter we discovered a clutch of eggs next door in the wild greenbelt, many looked as if they'd been there for quite some time as plant matter was nestled amongst them.
I surmised this was where she'd been laying prior to our abducting her permanently, putting them at about a year old. Eeewww.
Wondering why nothing had ever gotten to them, I nonetheless kept a sporadic eye on the spot afterwards.
A few weeks later, all but one egg was gone.
We keep track of who lays daily and she'd come up short recently, which wasn't like her.
Then I found out why.
She'd gone back to that spot.
Stumped, but knowing I had to break her of this immediately, I kicked up the nest and put those eggs in the proper nesting boxes.
Reinforced the barrier between the properties and kept all birds longer in the pen every day than usual (until they'd laid.)
It seems to have worked and she's back to where she should be, but that lapse still confounds me.
RC remains an enigma: it is because of that, her survivor history and lowly status that makes me favor her.
And did I mention that she is beautiful?
Where's RC? Back at the old nest being bad and tempting fate.
Yurt at J. Honeyman State Park OR
(Hanging out with Zabby Dog on CAM's birthday)
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With little sisters, Rhoda & Obrahma- what chickens do all day
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