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Journal of a Living Lady #127

 

Nancy White Kelly

 

Buddy broke the news to me gently, a day after the fact. I had been on such an author’s high, he didn’t want to spoil a day of jubilant joy for me.

 

We were at the supper table and Charlie passed Buddy the butter. He slowly slathered the hot cornbread as he spoke, not looking up. “We had a disaster in the chicken yard yesterday.” I nearly choked.

 

For months we have been trying to protect Mrs. Red, our favorite mama hen, and her brood which consisted of half her own and half adoptees that we hatched in the brooder. There were a total of sixteen chicks which we meticulously counted day in and day out. They were beginning to feather and were trusting of us gentle humans. At night we herded all the chickens and the lone guinea into the barn and shut the half door. We put heavy hog wire on the top half. Buddy and I had learned our lesson from the past. Foxes, possums and other mysterious creatures prey when you least expect it.

 

But the night before I was too excited to remember and Buddy forgot. When he went to check on our pets in early daylight, feathers were all over the pasture. Mrs. Red must have put up a vicious fight with her attacker. Only six chicks remained and they were traumatized and scattered over hell’s three acres.

 

I wanted to cry. Those chickens looked to us for protection and we let them down. One mistake, one night of abandonment, and the ultimate price was paid. I am not a vengeful person, but this day I wanted to kill. Yet, I know it is the way of the wild: hungry predator, victim. Nonetheless, I am saddened and ready to end my attachment with farm animals. This was not the first Kelly farm massacre, nor would it be the last. Buddy and I agreed it was time to find a good home for our pet poultry.

 

It will be especially difficult to say good-bye to Mrs. Little. She is a smoky bantam who appeared in Buddy’s shop one day and laid an egg right in the middle of his nails and screws. He discarded the egg and she returned, obviously agitated that the egg was missing. She defiantly laid another and dared him with her beady eyes to move it. He didn’t, but did try to cushion the sharp points with a some straw. Finally Mrs. Smoky Little had several eggs and starting sitting. Each night Buddy would shut the garage door so nothing with ill intentions could bother her. Each morning he would leave her some grain and water. Occasionally Mr. Smoky Little would come check on her and wander back to the pasture. Twenty one days later we had three baby smokies, cute as could be. They still camp in the garage and Buddy faithfully shuts them up at night. We want a very good, safe home for Mr. and Mrs. Smoky Little and their little  chicks. If you have a chicken condo with a double-bolt lock and a double-barrel shotgun, give us a call.

 

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nancyk@alltel.net  The next book signing will be at the MOUNTAIN REGIONAL LIBRARY in Young Harris, GA on Thursday, August 30th from 5:00-7:00 p.m. Refreshments served. Books available.