Cock-a-Doodle Doo (doo)

Common sight in this part of the woods

I live right off a fairly busy highway in my town.  I have noticed in the last week that the city is tearing down a row of unsightly houses along the highway which, if were not condemned already, I think they should've been.  I have no idea if they were indeed condemned or if they are making way for new construction of some kind.  The sad part of it is that people actually lived in those houses up until the wrecking ball hit, and I sincerely hope they all were able to relocate somewhere safe and sound.  I think perhaps someone in one of those particular houses was raising chickens because there were always a few hens hanging out on the side of the highway, just threatening to come a couple of feet too close to the oncoming traffic and take their place as the latest roadkill.  

I guess this area of our county is still considered somewhat rural because we have had our fair share of deer lately that don't make it across that highway safely, and various other critters as well.  My husband and I have more than once come into our neighborhood at night and had to brake for deer crossing the street and, in case you didn't know, there is always more than one.  So we slow to let the one cross and wait for the other one or two that follow.  Thank God, and knock on wood, I have never hit one.  I know plenty of people who have and it is not a pretty sight for the deer or their car.  But I must say I am glad the chickens are gone because I hate to see any innocent creature get needlessly smashed.  One day I passed a man who had stopped in the middle of the highway (in a turning lane, but still...) and who was out of his car kneeling on the ground looking under his front bumper.  I just know he hit one of those chickens and was examining the damage.  He was beyond crazy to do it in the middle of a busy highway, though, because just the right truck at just the right time and he too could've been road pizza.

So these chickens that teeter on the side of the road got me to thinking about my sweet daughter-in-love and her chicken experience.  Several years back when my son and his family were living in this area, she was working in an equally rural town and hit a chicken with her car.  Now, that in and of itself is nothing new but what followed was hilarious.  Unable to deal with what she was going to find, she didn't get out and inspect the damage but drove the car all the way back home (about 25 miles) to let my son take a look at it and, yep, you guessed it, she had ridden all the way home with the poor chicken, still alive, stuck in her grill.  Now they truly were in a dilemma.  They collaborated over what they should do, and my son was able to release the chicken from its incarceration between the bars of the car's front grill.  It was around the holidays, so they were headed to Florida in a couple of days to visit relatives, and they absolutely couldn't travel with a chicken stuck in the grill...that much they knew. It of course would've been inhumane and, secondly, my daughter-in-law would've been freaking out the entire 500 miles.  So they placed the half-dead chicken in the empty lot next to their house and further discussed just what part they should continue to play in the situation unfolding before them.   After all, it was an accident.  They decided to leave him (or her) there, hoping that it would somehow heal enough to wander away and become someone else's concern.  But not until my son first presented the chicken with a frozen corn-on-the-cob for nourishment that he fetched out of the freezer, in the hope of speeding the chicken back to good health.  After all, a good meal helps everything!  He cracks me up. However, upon returning from their trip, the chicken had met his demise, in spite of their best efforts to save it. 

Even if you live in an urban area, you may know people who raise hens.  Hen-raising has become a popular hobby in recent years and it is not uncommon to find a chicken coup in the backyard of some fine homes.  People in the city find ways to indulge their country inclinations and living in the city will not deter them from trying their hand at raising chickens.  I have several friends and even my niece who raise chickens for their eggs and for eating.  I'm sorry, I would have a hard time thinking of going to the back yard fetching a chicken to slaughter if my kids had named it Lucy.  Just don't seem right.  Plus, who is gonna clean it and dress it?  Certainly not moi.  There are different laws regulating the raising of chickens however, depending on the town, and it's a good thing. Otherwise we would have an overrun of chickens, and an overrun of the other smelly thing that comes along with chickens and I say no, thank you.  We have enough of that from the Canada geese that inhabit our neighborhood pond.

I will continue to buy my eggs at the local Publix and my chickens as well...already cleaned, cut up and ready to plop in the pan, on the grill, or in the slow cooker.  After all, we are living in the new millineum, you know, and why would I want to go back to the 1800's?  I mean, really.     
   

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