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.