First fabulous four

The tops of the cardboard boxes I’d received were ripped, almost to shreds. Their soggy bottoms disintegrated; a trail of wet discolored wood chips seeped from the torn corners. From the looks of hardship the boxes endured, I had every right to worry how the chickens inside had fared during their three day journey from Key West Fla., to my home in Olympia Wa.,

The weight of the chickens shifted inside, I cradled the boxes firmly to get them safely to the coop. Pristina was first to be released. My hands shaking in anticipation, I gently tore away the top of one side. “Your home now, safe and sound” I said, in a very Snow White sing-song tone. She wildly jumped from the remains of the box, startling me – sprinting outside into the run going straight for the water. Looking back, I might have waited, even just a few minutes, before tearing open Simon’s box – but thus far I had no practical knowlege - everything I knew about chickens I’d learned from books. He burst out of the box, an explosion of iridescence, rushed out to find Pristina……….and jumped her. “Oh, well, a love match it is.” I just shook my head. Obviously a long trip for both of them!

Pristina has been called Pristina from the very day we adopted her. Her name is the same as a city in Kosovo - I don't know of any connection. Simon, on the other hand, was known as Hemingway Red, originally a rescued rooster from Ernest Hemingway’s famous estate in Key West. His adopted name is an abbreviation of the Simonton Court, our paradise-like accommodations during our weekend stay in the Southern-most point of the U.S., where we were first introduced to these funky chickens.

There are two other hens to introduce at this time. These are local birds, acquired for the sole purpose of giving Simon a decent flock of three hens – or more accurately, to give Pristina some diversion to being the only hen of which Simon would engage in his “afternoon delight”.

Phyllis is a five-toed Silky, a constant squawker who has a flight range of less than three feet high. Keith installed a secondary roost for her as a ladder to the main roost, so she can be on the same level as everyone else. This, I read, is very important in establishing pecking order. Interesting to note, Phyllis - the silliest, noisiest, least athletic bird we raise – is the alpha bird of the flock. Buffy was a Wyandotte, a buff colored Wyandotte who laid blue eggs. Easily the tamest of the flock, Buffy lifted her body high into the air whenever I walked outside, sprinting towards me to see what treats I had to share. Unafraid, a leader of sorts, and unfortunately not longed for life on our mini-farm. A story for another day, that one. R.I.P. Buffy.

I was sure that four chickens was going to be more than enough for a novice chicken keeper such as myself. You'll read later how far from the truth that was.

How things came to be

I've never thought much about chickens. Certainly, I'd never considered raising chickens - that's for sure.

But this here is a story about oh, how things change.....

The first of two critical elements in my new adventure as gypsy chicken keeper was a trip to Key West for a travel writer's conference in Feb. '04.

LOVED Key West on arrival. Period. As my boyfriend, Keith, and I explored the sites of the city - I couldn't help myself from exclaiming at every sighting "There is ANOTHER chicken, Keith, gawd, aren't they pretty!" 'Pretty' and 'chicken' had never been heard coming from my mouth in the same sentence before.

The chickens of Key West are protected and roam the streets and neighborhoods in, well, relative freedom. The bohemian nature stuck with me. We took home souvenir watercolor paintings of roosters, done by local artist Martha DePoo - let the chicken mania begin!

The second part to this story came about the day we signed the lease on a house to rent in Tumwater, Washington, listed in the classifieds as a "mini-farm". Keith had recently been handed one of those 'offers you can't refuse' in his career and we decided to make a major move. We took a tour of the property on an early gray skied December morning. The landlord happily pointed out the benefit of having our very own chicken coop and adjoining fully-fenced run. Hmmmm, we could raise chickens.

Before we were completely settled into the house, I began googling 'chickens of Key West', more on a lark than anything else. I found the website for The Chicken Store in Key West - (was sorry to have missed this treasure during our visit). I began emailing with Katha Sheehan, the owner and best friend these birds could have. When I found out the chickens I'd become so taken with were called "gypsy chickens" well, that pretty much sealed the deal.......

Stay tuned for introductions to the flock, and the stories of our lives together.