Beauty

   

 As we have watched our feral hen Beauty, hatch out seven chicks in early August and battle hawks, possums and other assorted enemies, we are now left with five nearly grown chickens and a new appreciation for chicken motherhood. She came to us from a shrubbery in White Rock. Her human friends there noticed a raccoon in the neighbourhood and transferred her here for safety. She never did get the hang of staying in the coop and consequently I have only ever had one egg from her. I know that because her eggs are white (she has gray ear lobes) whereas the rest of my girls lay brown eggs (they have red ear lobes---- strange, but true.) That was three years ago.
     She sat on about nine eggs for much of July without me even knowing that she was there amongst the hollyhocks and peonies. Once the little balls of fluff were hatched, three black and four gray, she taught them everything a yard bird must know: dogs are okay, cats, not so much. The soil and grass must be scratched and scratched hard to reveal black beetles, worms and other delicacies. Store bought chicken crumble is not to be depended upon but hen scratch must not be ignored because of the yummy corn it contains. Other hens are to be avoided as well as motor vehicles of all kinds: cars, trucks, lawn mowers, you name it. You must always keep moving and make noise the whole time so that Mama knows you are there. Never mind that big noisy guy in the yard, that's just your father. Roosting is a useful skill and chest butting can be fun. Stay together, keep eating, no wandering please. Keep your beak clean, your feathers fluffed and when in doubt, run like the chickens.
     Beauty, like Lulu before her, is the epitome of grace under pressure, all the while making motherhood look easy. It isn't! But then you knew that....