Chickens Don't Drown

Soon after moving to Wisconsin, my mother sent me a cartoon.  The caption was, “I love living in a small town.  When I forget what I am doing my neighbors remind me.”  It is so true.  Truths and rumors spread very quickly. Since two of my neighbors were part of our chicken coop delivery, most everyone around knew we were getting chickens.  Advice and questions began to flow from every direction.  “Are you selling eggs?”  “Have you ever butchered before?”   “What kind of feed are you using?” 

Our church has a small congregation and its people are kind.  During the fellowship time after church, I was drinking coffee and enjoying my doughnut when a very friendly, uninhibited member sat down next to me. She began to tell me everything she knew about chickens.  She did not stop talking for  fifteen minutes and shared information regarding every chicken she ever owned.  Of the entire conversation I remembered one thing.  “During a big storm I did not chase the chickens in and they all stood there with their beaks open to the sky and they all drowned.”   Oh no I thought. I did not read anything about this.  Their heads are so little, therefore their brains are tiny, and maybe they don’t know to go in from the rain.

Several weeks later, her words echoed in my head, “….and they all drowned…” as I saw the biggest, darkest clouds beginning to roll in.  I quickly went down to the chicken coop and began to encourage the ladies to go inside.  Just as soon as some would go in, some would come out.  Our chicken coop has one people door in the front and two chicken doors that swing down into a ramp on opposite sides.  So, I closed one chicken door and shooed the hens to the fenced area by the open door.  I quickly secured the gate as the last leghorn scurried through. 

Thunder grumbled deep and loud.  I could see the huge dark cloud getting closer and the chickens did not seem to care.  “…and they all drowned…..they all drowned…”  It had to be true.  These pea brained fowl had no idea how much danger they were in.  The first rain drop landed on my arm and my heart began to race.  I did not invest money into the coop, supplies and birds to have it all go to waste because chickens don’t know to go in out of the rain.

I got a broom and gently gathered them into the coop through their door.  As fast as I could I ran to the people door, went in the coop to latch the chicken door, only to find half the chickens ran back outside!  Back out I went and the people door swung open in the wind and the rest of the girls came out side.  Back to the people door, I shut it and latched it.  Grabbed the broom, gathered the chickens on the correct side of the yard, latched the gate and strongly encouraged them inside.  Now lightening cracked and I was drenched.  I ran back into the coop through the people door and sure enough three chickens were back outside. It had become a battle of the wills and I was not going to lose!

Outside I went, latched the door and chased the three stragglers back in.  This time I thought I would outsmart them.  I crawled through their door after them. The opening is only two feet wide and three feet tall.  Confidently I stood up, latched the chicken door and smugly told them who was in charge.  I went to the people door and smacked right into it- it was latched from the outside!  If chickens could laugh I am sure they would have.  I sheepishly unlatched the small door and crawled back out side into a violent summer storm.  I spied the broom leaning up against the building and used it to prop the door closed.  I then went in via the appropriate entry and secured the coop and walked up to my house.  I prayed no one was watching. 

After a few more storms and leaving the chickens to their own destiny, I learned chickens, in fact, don't drown.