The Angry Chickens

A dear friend of mine posted yesterday about her temporary country life and that she really wasn't cut out for that kind of living. Can I just say HILARIOUS post...Anyway, it sparked some not so fond memories of my really one and only encounter with those wild and dangerous..chickens. Yes that is what I said, chickens. They can be very scary you know..yes very scary.

So about 4 years or so ago Trina ( yes, another Trina story..hehe) and her family went on a little vacation. They had some chickens and a few ducks and they asked Rusty and I to tend to them while they are away. Sure..no problem is what my hubby told them and really it wasn't..until I had my first face off with these wile little creatures. Now for the most part Rusty would go up and check on them by himself, or we would go up together. It was summertime and so we would go up often to make sure they had enough water...No dehydrated chickens our my watch...hehe

Anyway, one day Rusty called me to let me know that I needed to go check on the "birds" by myself because he was gonna be home late. Now Jake was about 3 or so and Jarred was just a baby. I said no problem and the kids and I charged up the mountain to do this little task. I mean after all I'd seen it done 10 times before..piece of cake.

We reached their house and the chicken Coop was around back. I drove around so I could be close enough for Jake, my worrier, to be able to see me. It was windy that day and as I walked up I heard the chickens making quite the ruckus...Got to be honest here, freaking me out a little. However my little boy was watching intensely and I knew this mommy had to step up and be a good country girl that my hubby could be proud of. Many thoughts raced through my mind as I walked up to their little wooden building. Were they all gonna come flying out of this house and I would have to spend the next 3 hrs chasing and TOUCHING these little beasts? Or worse maybe they would like attack me, and I was gonna have to fend them off with any means necessary as my little one watched in horror. Seriously these were my thoughts because the noise that was coming from their little home sounded angry, like maybe they were potentially on the verge of being crazy. I mean can farm chickens carry rabies??

Okay..Deep Breathe ..Get in and Get out is what I kept chanting to myself. I pulled hard on the door hoping that the swift opening would I don't know maybe surprise them and I could catch them off guard. However much to my dismay..they were not surprised by me, as a matter of fact the only reaction I got was louder and more frightening chatter like the start of a riot. I stepped inside still nervous that one might get out and then they all started to gather around my legs. Frozen with fear I looked down at them as their large wings were starting to beat and their razor sharp beaks looked like they could possibly peck right through my skin.. basically it was mayhem. The door behind me slammed shut and with the adrenaline rush I was experiencing from the noisy, and what seemed like angry hens, caused a screamed what is to only be called a blood curdling scream. One in which I am even turning a little red in the face now remembering that moment. Now you can imagine how my little 3 yr. old nervous joe, Jake, was taking the screaming that his mommy was continuously producing. I just couldn't stop myself. He then also started screaming my name and crying hysterically. However I was caught up in my own nightmare having to fend off these little monsters so I could get the right food in the right place and the "scratch" in the right place. I emerged from the small building feeling beaten and a little shaky. Knowing that I still had to go back to that violent scene to WATER these little critters did not make me happy.

I finally got Jake and Jarred ( who was also upset from all the yelling his mommy and big bubba were doing) calmed down only to hear Jake's pleas for me NOT TO GO BACK IN!! I said it was gonna be Okay, that the door just scared me when it slammed. Really who was I kidding though.. I continued to scream the whole time I was in there, the door was only a tiny part of my trauma. He knew it, I knew it, but I still had to make it sound good right? My job wasn't done, I went back in, watered the little pests and called it a day. The car ride home was silent as Jake and I both came to grips with the fact that we both stared danger in the eye and lived to tell about it. At least that was what I was thinking.......