Backyard Chickens

Part of growing up in the country was having chickens in the backyard. One of the hazards of this was feeling something you didn't like between your toes when you went barefooted in the summer. Another downside could be an overly aggressive rooster.

When I was a girl, there was only one rooster that took a dislike to me. Perhaps it was because I was little and young, and he felt he could dominate me. He was a pretty chicken with a reddish back, dark green neck, and colorful tail feathers.

After a couple of times of being flogged, pecked, and scratched, I'd had enough. The next time I went out the back door, I carried my softball bat with me. Sure enough, the rooster came charging at a dead run. I pulled back, swung the bat, and hit him square in the head. He staggered off shaking his head. He was fine by the next day, but he never bothered me again.

Our chickens always roamed free during the day. Dad had a chicken coop for them to roost in at night and for the hens to lay their eggs in. Occasionally, there would be a renegade or two who would prefer to roost on the low limbs of trees instead of using the coop. Sometimes a fox, weasel, or other critter would end up getting those. Only rarely would something try to raid the chicken coop, because I usually had a dog that kept them away.

Today, I still like chickens. In fact, my kitchen and den have a chicken theme. I think they bring back childhood memories - mostly good ones.

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