As usual with most January mornings, we woke up to a gray dreary morning. It wasn't until Isabel and I went to clean the chicken coop that the day brightened a little, thanks to six hens - the occupants of the coop, or as we call it, the Chicken Palace. Being new to the chicken biz, from what we've read, the ladies' laying should have really dropped off at this point in the year. That's why it was such a bright spot on this gloomy morning to find three warm fresh eggs. Three gifts from who knows which ladies. For us.
I have never had an animal that actually gave something back to the cause. Well, something tangible and useful - aside from poop and love. So, it always amazes me that chances are when you go into the coop each day you will find a small perfect gift. And I always feel quiet gratitude. And I do feel like I need to keep it quiet - I just know that one of the other animals will say, "pst, pst! Yo chickens, no need to give them anything. Crazy thing is they'll take care of you anyway." It would probably be the goats that would blow it for us. Not real givers...
Anyway, as a reward for the pick-me-up, Isabel and I let the ladies out of the coop for the first time. They walked straight out the door like they were late for a lunch date, purses, hats, ready to go. They lingered for a while in the wet green weeds before Henrietta took the first steps into the garden dirt. Heaven. Girls gone wild. Those chickens pecked and scratched and flapped and scampered. They marched around in the wet dirt like they were all that - very important chickens. After about 45 minutes, when they seemed to have tuckered out, Is and I rattled their feeder inside the coop and they all walked right back in. Well, two had to be redirected to their front door. A perfect thank-you outing.
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