The box. The Box. What was in the box?
Before I had left to bring our Guineas to Dick’s home, I had told Marc that when I returned I would be getting some chicks from our local Tractor Supply. It’s Spring, you can’t look at Facebook without seeing chick photos, we had room in our flock, it was time.
I wanted chicks again in my life. But my point is that I wasn’t actively looking for chicks during my visit. In fact, I was on a mission to get rid of two of our flock members, when you considered the guilt of this trip (and yes, there was a little bit of abandonment guilt), chicks were not exactly on my mind just then.
HOWEVER, when Dick and I were talking about his animal menagerie, he pointed to a beautiful rooster on his lawn and he mentioned his chickens.
Wait, you have chickens too?
“Yup,” he said, “I’ve got Black Copper Marans.” In an ironic twist of fate, Dick had two Marans roosters and two Marans hens, I mean what are the chances, that he would have Guineas *and* Marans?
“HOLY COW! *I* HAVE A BLACK COPPER MARANS,” I told him. “Her name is Charlie and I write about her all the time.” I told Dick about how we got Charlie as a chick and I had to do a bit of surgery on her feet followed by physical therapy followed by living in our house for 6 months, but that she’s doing fine today. I was desperately trying to condense the story of Charlie so that I could get it out in less than a few hours (and not sound like a crazy chicken lady), But I wanted him to know that I do so love my Charlie.
“I have Black Copper Marans chicks,” said Dick.
“YOU HAVE BLACK COPPER MARANS CHICKS????” At this point, Dick must have assumed I was a little special because every time he said something, I just seemed to repeat it back to him only louder.
“They just hatched. Do you want to see some?”
I replied, “UM, YEEEEEEAAH,” in that semi-sarcastic way my teens had taught me to reply when something was painfully obvious.
Dick brought out a box of chicks. He showed me some chicks that were yellow due to recessive genes, a Cuckoo Marans that had the white dot on its head, and then he pointed to a chick that even I could identify very clearly as a Black Copper Marans.
She looked exactly like Charlie did.
“CAN I HOLD HER?” And when he said yes, I held the baby up to my cheek and softly clucked for her. Every single material gene clicked on inside like a light in a darkened room.
“You can have that one,” he told me.
Life can be such a kick sometimes, if I hadn’t been holding the chick so close to my face, I would have said “YOU MEAN I CAN HAVE HER???!!!”
Instead I continued to hold her clucking and gently kissing her and I whispered to Dick -
“thank you.”
Meet Violet Beauregard (We have a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Theme going on here.)
Expect to hear many (many) more stories about her.
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Wendy Thomas writes about the lessons learned while raising children and chickens in New Hampshire. Contact her at [email protected]
Also, join me on Facebook to find out more about the flock (children and chickens) and see some pretty funny chicken jokes, photos of tiny houses, and even a recipe or two.
