Sons and Saws

The "girls" (Bess, Dixie, Penny and Nugget) seemed to thoroughly be enjoying their new abode, as well as the new found freedom that came with it. It was only a matter of days before they ruled the roost,  the yard and even the porch. Meanwhile, we were perfecting the details of our very new routine. As we went about the daily chores, I noticed my son longingly wanting to "cuddle" a chicken. Thing is chickens aren't really known for their "cuddling" abilities. And, since I had told him from day 1 that these were HIS chickens, to care for, clean up after, love and feed, I saw no reason as to why he shouldn't also be able to share in the joy of handling them.

I gave it a little thought (because I'm a die hard impulse kinda girl) and decided that our girls, while hatched by an elementary school class, maybe just hadn't had enough exposure? SO after a quick "spec-check" of the coop (I mean it did say 4 TO 5 after all), we closed up shop. Which at this point just meant shutting the chicken coop and away we went to a local "feed and seed" that word on the street said had newly hatched chicks available. 

Moments later and smiles from ear to ear, we proudly walked to our car with a cardboard box containing a beautiful purebred Americana chick. Laya, to be confused with BOTH the princess and the fact that it's kinda what she was born to do. We had been given the rundown on the "Do's and Dont's" of introducing a brand new hatchling to an already acclimated flock. Which pretty much meant that the rest of the day would be spent outside playing referee. But that didn't matter one bit. Because the smile sprawled across my 4 year olds face as he whispered sweet nothings to "HIS" baby bird was absolutely priceless.

We arrived home and excitedly opened her cardboard "cage" inviting her into a freedom she had never known. How could she not love it? From a smelly closed quartered shell, to a steel tub with a thousand other birds and only 1 bathroom ( which was apparently on top of one another) Paradise! Nope. 

"Laya" made it 2 steps from the car before she darted into the thick palmetto plants that line our entire property. Now. If you live in Florida, you have likely encountered one of these plants. They are also known as "saw"palmettos for a VERY valid reason as I was about to discover. "Saw" Palmettos have sharp teeth, not unlike a... ___. If you guessed Piranha, please stop reading this now. The healthy green ones are not too bad. They are kinda like the little "mouthy" guys at a bar, the "all bark no bite" seeming ones. So you press on and ignore. That is until their 6'4 built -like-a-stallion "buddy" slips in outta nowhere and you black out after that. The "ole' boys", the brown, dried out, last gasp-at-glory-days ones. Yep. Those will kill you on site if given even half a chance. I have the battle scars to prove (working on the t-shirt).

SO.  Laya gets herself nestled in there. I mean IN. And, after a 45+ minute chase, and several gushing wounds, (after all she was my son's new "baby") and secondly, hadn't even been introduced to the coop or shelter of any kind. I gave up. I had to. We went back about our daily obligations, with heavy hearts I must say, and a very active watch on the Palmettos. 

5 hours passed. Nothing. Not a "cluck". I began the, "she must've missed her family SO much, and gone home", talks with my son. It was time to walk Callie. All leashed up and ready to go we paraded out the door when suddenly Callie froze. Ears perked with a purpose, nose held high, deciphering what we could never. I tugged semi impatiently at her collar, "c'mon girl". But then I heard it too. Dried leaves both crunching and flying, and, just as quickly as she had disappeared, very "holographically" Laya emerged from the "death" plants. What she did for the last 5 hours was thrown aside. We were just happy to have her HOME. 

So that evening, Laya was treated to the 2 mile walk with us. Yes, that's what I'm saying, we walked a dog, a chicken and a stroller. Heaven....