August 17, 2013 – Mom was out for the day, so I took advantage of her absence by organizing Vespa training for the flock. Tim helped me arrange little orange highway cones in the driveway and then, one by one, each chicken took a turn navigating the informal course. Emaline and Violet were the most wobbly; uttering similar cries of, “Oh, glory be!” as they maneuvered deliberately around each obstacle. All in all, everyone did quite well. Wilma was the last hen to take a turn, having appeared disinterested during most of the proceedings. After a bit of supplication on the part of Peaches and Sawyer, and with Bo’s steady wing to balance her as she boarded, Wilma finally took control of the scooter. I said, “Give it just a little gas to start Wilma,” and then she, being a hen of questionable hearing, opened up the throttle, exploding from the starting point, crushing every orange cone she encountered and nearly running over Charlotte. The rest of us leapt out of her way, ducking and rolling to avoid a collision. Wilma herself was panicked. I have never heard her scream in fear before today. If I close my eyes I can still see her outstretched legs flapping in the wind like air traffic control flags. I tried running after her, hoping I could jump onto the scooter and slow it down, but she was traveling so fast, that she ran headlong into a bale of straw and flew over the handlebars into a pile of compost. Incredibly, both the Vespa and Wilma survived without a scratch. We washed down the scooter and hid it back in the shed. The last I saw of Wilma, she was headed over to our neighbor’s Jacuzzi with a bottle of wine and a scrub brush tucked under her wing.
Happy New Year, Peeps! Nicki Murphy is a long time follower of Cluck, Cluck, Doo! and great friend to the chicken keeping community. For years, she and others in the […]More Info
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