Two summers ago our neighbor to the north decided to get some chickens. They were very small and all but one succumbed to the elements--elements being mostly cats. But one survived and we had a lot of fun watching the black chicken wander around our yard. It got so tame that we could pet it and feed it out of our hands. All the kids on the street enjoyed having the bird around, too.
Then we didn't see it anymore. We live on a mountain so any number of things could have done it in. For the past year and a half our neighborhood has been sans free-range chickens.
Until recently.
Introducing our newest neighbor. I have no idea what breed of chicken this is, but we believe it's fully grown and it's half the size of a normal bird. Chickens like our yard because we have strawberries and raspberries, boysenberries and blackberries. The ones we don't get, they do.
The other day I was sitting on the front lawn and the little bird came wondering by. I picked up some grass and held it out thinking there's little chance this bird will be as tame as the last one. But I was wrong. It came over and began plucking. I don't know much about chickens. Maybe they're all like that--once they get used to the people around them, they warm up to humans. I'm sure those who have raised chickens know more. For now, we hope this particular bird enjoys our berries as much as we enjoy having her around.
No comments:
Post a Comment