Pompadour

My chooks are older and fluffier now. I still suffer from CIA but at a reduced level, probably 5 out of 10 on the ‘CIA Scale of Discomfort’. This is down from 9 out of 10, so from a clinical perspective I have improved significantly. From my perspective, it’s still a pain in the butt.

I fear the only way to eliminate my CIA is to have no chooks. But I have grown fond of my feathered hens and I won’t get rid of them. They live for about 9 years so I’ll have to cope until they have gone to that great free-range farm in the sky. God doesn’t eat caged-chicken eggs!

I have five fabulously outrageous Chinese Silky hens. They are soft, docile critters adorned with lovely pompoms. Silkies are a great bird for the novice poultry keeper and are terrific for ‘tame’ children aged 6 and over. They lay little eggs weighing 40 grams. This means you will need a little teaspoon to fit in your soft-boiled eggy. If you are a horrible person and desire to eat a Silkie you will find the meat to be entirely repulsive and dark in colour.

My chickens are Pompadour, Snowy, Vegemite, Miss Eagle and Henny-Penny. Pompadour, the most arrogant of the hens, has the finest pompom. Snowy is a pure white hen and Vegemite is the colour of yeast extract. Miss Eagle is a suspected impostor having no pompom at all. I was running out of names when I got to Henny-Penny.

These chooks live the good life. They free-range all day and put themselves to bed at dusk. Sometimes I top up their dry food with fresh greens or, if they are really lucky, worms from my worm farm. As a result, when I open the gate to the backyard they go crazy with love and run towards me. This makes it all worthwhile. At night the door is shut securely on their coop. The fluffballs sleep snuggled up against each other.

PS. I have a confession to make. Due to my CIA (totally irrational) I just can’t bring myself to eat my feathered friends’ little eggs. But that’s OK because everyone else does and when we have too many eggs we trade with the neighbours, who give us seasonal produce. Everyone’s a winner. And yes, I am told, free-range, organic eggs definitely taste better.

Here is the link to my first story Chook-Induced Anxiety (CIA)

Pompadour and Snowy - the girls discuss affairs of State!

17 thoughts on “Chook-Induced Anxiety (CIA) The Sequel

    1. This is true. You can always rely on animals to make you feel good in the world – humans on the other hand are generally unreliable. They are also useful for getting ideas for writing tales and poems – I think I am getting too attached to Pompadour.

    1. They are beautiful. My uncle had a chicken farm which we used to visit as kids. I love all types of birds. My husband breeds Gouldian finches (but he keeps the aviary locked so I can’t get in to take photos – one day).

  1. They are totally adorable. I would love to have some chooks but fear if I did that my neighbours would hate me even more than they do now (we rescued a rainbow lorikeet with an injured wing last year and even though we have released him back into the wild he keeps coming to see us every morning at 6AM in a rather vociferous manner with ten of his friends).

    I can see that Pompadour has quite a stately bearing. Too cute πŸ˜€

    1. A stately bearing indeed. If you don’t have roosters, and if you clean the coop regularly, your neighbours wouldn’t even know you have chooks (they make an ever so soft clucking sound – and if you didn’t like that sound you would be a bit strange). Maybe you could offer some eggs as a peace offering.

  2. this made me miss the days when i had chickens… i too would feed them worms on special occasion and they would just go mad for them. they are a really beautiful animal.

    thought you might enjoy this haiku:

    rooster’s yellow beak opens the morning

    have a great week,

    graham

    1. I used to think I hated birds – all those feathers and all – but once you have them and observe them closely you realise how wonderful they are. I love your haiku! My chickens are bringing out the poet and artist in everyone – on last count we have 3 poems (gingatao, A.S Patric and me) and too many pictures to count from artist Benedicte Delachanel. Thanks Graham and enjoy your week too.

  3. I’d love to have chickens in the backyard, but, like Selma, fear the cock-a-doodle-doo repercussions. My mother-in-law had a rooster she named ‘Dick’! My father-in-law cooked it in a broth (they were poor Italian immigrants in 1950’s Australia – tough times) and took it to my mother-in-law while she was staying in hospital. My mother-in-law took a sip of the broth, realised it was a real chicken and not a stock cube and asked ‘how did you afford a real chicken?’ Within 3 seconds of telling her that he had cooked her rooster he was wearing the entire bowl of broth!

    1. That’s hilarious, you should write short story about it. I would have done the same thing and I love the name ‘Dick’. Seems everyone has a chicken story to tell. Thanks Mark – you’ve made my day!

  4. I wonder if any established philosophers ever thought to begin their inquiries with a postulation of the universality of human/chook relationships. Imagine what Rousseau’s Social Contract might have looked like! It seems fitting that my first creative writing post was chook induced, Gabrielle. I had intended to be a ‘serious’ philosophy blogger but chookens and fate put a prompt end to that.

    http://maekitso.wordpress.com/2008/02/06/9/

    Cheers!

    1. Brad – I’m going to kill you! I was just starting to have a good week after a crap weekend and now you’ve got me crying over your deceased chookens. Why is the fox so magnificent – bloody introduced species.

  5. I love reading your life with Pompadour and friends, so funny and tender (not sure of that word…it could be interpreted as tender meat!). Pompadour is my “chouchou” no logical reason, but they are all stars, they have the look and the attitude. keep up telling us about them.

    1. Tender is the perfect word – no misunderstandings. They are all stars, though Henny-Penny, Vegemite and Miss Eagle are a bit raggedy, I love them all equally (well almost). Each have their own special qualities and we are now getting 4 eggs a day.

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