"That's ONE messed-up chicken!" the Big Guy declares each time he comes in through the back door.
Chester, the rooster, arrived at our house Sunday afternoon. To keep a long story long, he was hatched from one of our eggs in a kindergarten room last spring. As an alternative to slaying-by-cat, one of our neighbors adopted him. He has spent the last 5 months in a chicken-sized kennel, sleeping indoors. Petted, preened, and primped. Until now.
Now Chester has moved to the farm. Next spring his owner hopes to have a chicken coop and perhaps even a Henny-Penny chicken to keep him company. Apparently Chester doesn't know he's a chicken. A dog? Perhaps. A person? More likely. He runs to greet us then puffs out his feathers and struts around us in a circle as if he's going to attack. We really don't know how to greet him. He avoids the other chickens. He sleeps in the tree--or under the porch--maybe even in the doghouse. He sampled pasture life with the cow and sheep, but that wasn't much to his liking. This could be an interesting saga.
Stay tuned for future updates on Chester the Chicken.
