One Tough Chick

A few months ago our family was at Shane and JoDee's house. Shane had just bought 3 small chickens. They were older than the cute and fuzzy stage. They were more the scraggly, ugly, looks-like-they're-molting stage. Ridge went crazy for them. He and his cousin played with the three chicks all night, they even put them on the trampoline and jumped with them. Shane was gracious enough to let us take one home with us. We named her Dora.

The day after we took Dora home Ridge played with her. He put Dora on the top of the bunk bed with him and then, without letting Dora know what he was going to do to her, he threw her off the bed. Dora ended bleeding and had a broken leg from the crash landing. I should have told Ridge that Dora was still to young to fly.

We just knew Dora was going to die. We did the humane thing...put her out in our then empty chicken coop with water and a bowl of dog food. We were prepared for her impending death.

Dora lived! They next day we found her kind of rolling around because she had no use of the broken leg. We filled her dishes with more water and dog food. Ridge was so excited when he found out that Dora was still alive! He ran out to the coop, scooped Dora up in his arms and put her down on the lawn to play with her. A silvery-gray blur flashed past and Dora was gone! Lucy, our weimeraner (a german bird dog, go figure), had grabbed Dora in her jaws and began to gnaw on her. Ridge stood there, screaming in terror as our back door neighbor came to Dora's rescue and pried her out of Lucy's mouth.

We just knew Dora was going to die. We did the humane thing...put her back in the empty chicken coop with water and a bowl of dog good. We were again prepared for her impending death.

Dora lived! She continued to live and survived another round of Lucy treating her like a limping, feathery chew toy. Day after day we were amazed that this bird continued to live. Day after day we fed her water and dog food. Day after day she limped a little less, became a little more mobile.

I remember the day when my family was out of town and I was in charge of Dora. I walked out to the coop to give her some fresh water and replenish her dog food when I found an egg! I was so excited. She seemed a little small to be laying but I had the evidence in my hand. When I spoke to Shauna that night, I told her of Dora's first gift. Shauna laughed and informed me that Ridge put that egg out there himself days and days ago. Maybe he was just trying to get her jump started. I don't really know.

The day came when we finally filled up the coop with more chickens. Eight hens and a rooster moved in with Dora. I steeled myself when my friend informed me that there really is a 'pecking order' in the poultry world and that the newcomers would probably pick on the weak and still gimpy Dora.

Dora stayed in her corner, not straying far from her roost. They left her alone. All was well. The chickens were getting along just fine. A short time later, a couple of the new hens began to lay eggs. Dora became more mobile. She would get down from her roost to roam the run area. I don't know if the others were just toying with her? Making her sweat a little? Maybe gray chickens hate white chickens like Dora. Maybe it was a fowl initiation into chicken gang, maybe the rooster was trying to impress the other ladies. I don't know but the day came when one or all of them pecked, scratched & beat the crap out of Dora leaving a big hole in her side.

We just knew Dora wasn't going to die. We did the humane thing...put her in the empty dog area in the garage with water, chicken feed and some cilantro-lime rice from Costa Vida. We were prepared for her impeding recovery.

After coming back from seeing the sixth Harry Potter installment, Shauna asked if I could smell 'that' in the garage. Smell what? I asked. Dora. Her flesh was rotting and there were insects or maggots or something eating and living in the open wound in Dora's side.

We just knew that Dora was going to die. We did the humane thing (thanks again, Smith) and now Dora, Dora, Dora, is no more-a. (Sung to the tune of Dora the Explorer.)

Dora, you were literally one tough bird. Thanks for being part of our family.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME!?

So, tonight I needed a snack. After opening the fridge, freezer & pantry doors at least 5 times each to stare at nothing that looked good, I opted for some Instant Breakfast. I grew up on the stuff.

Anyway, it was a new container, not a box of envelopes but a bulk sized container that you scoop out into your glass. That is where my "Are you freaking kidding me?!" comes into play. I opened the bulk container of Instant Breakfast & stirred the powder around looking for a plastic scoop. There was none. All right, all right, that's forgivable to an extent. I am thinking hmmm, I guess I need to find a measuring cup to portion my snack appropriately. I become dumbfounded when I read the directions & find out I need a 1/3 cup + 1 tablespoon for my milk. Are you freaking kidding me?! I need two utensils every stinking morning? Bullcrap!

I know that I worked for Nestle' in the past but I can't believe that they can't put a scoop in their product.

Thanks for letting me vent.