A Chicken Miracle.

A miracle has occurred here in Edison. And I'm only half-joking.

Yesterday, Wes let the chickens out of their coop to wander around the place (read: poop all over my yard.) Usually, they make their way back to the safety of the coop as dusk approaches. Well, yesterday only 3 of the 4 came home. And they were huddled in the doorway, clearly discussing something of concern. We were missing a girl - a pretty, fluffy, well-mannered Barred Rock. (a.k.a. Plymouth Rock; black and white in color.) Sad. Not good.

I was in need of some fresh air. I had caught the most recent cold that Buck the Preschooler had to offer, and I'd been cooped up (pun intended) all day on the couch. I'll walk around the block, I said, to look for her. What I found was a suspicious smattering of black and white feathers in the alley, but no girl. When I reported this, we clucked and worried and surmised that likely a bird of prey had taken her. They are abundant in these parts, and particularly the bald eagles are starting to hand around this time of year. A dim fate, but, we hoped, a quick one. Well, we'd lost many a girl in the past. This spring we'll definitely get some chicks. Its been a number of years since we've filled the ranks. Yay chicks!

Well. This morning, Wes informed me that we had a chicken miracle on our hands. For, in the coop were 4 girls, including our missing Barred Rock. She looked to be missing a good deal of feathers, but otherwise hale and hearty. Where on earth had she been?! A night of carousing? A vision quest? A desperate tussle with some dog that led her to hunker down out of sight till she had her wits about her to return home and somehow get back in the coop? We'll never know. Welcome back, girl. Lay some eggs.

In other news, today is my 40th birthday.