A Time Like No Other...

Before all the talk about the Avian Flu, I actually liked chickens. But not as much as my son, Jake. As a little boy, he had an affinity for the feathered creatures and was always on hand to collect eggs or round up a few stray hens that got into my flowerbeds.

As he got older, about 4 or so, he
begged for his own flock of chickens. So when I spyed an ad for a small flock near Mount Calvary, we headed to the Holyland. With seven hens and a rooster, Jake was in command and promptly named them all: Kellie and Mellie (Kellie, a brahma, is pictured above), Huey, Dewey and Louey, Lacey, Bucca and I can't remember the rest (the monikers are emblazoned for posterity's sake on a quilt I made for him when he was in kindergarten). Jake was constantly in the chicken coop, checking on his hens and feeding them. Of course, his favorites, Kellie and Mellie, received special privileges - riding on the handle-bars of his bike or balancing on a trapeeze on the swingset.

As time passed we added on to his flock; cochins, buff orpingtons, barred rocks, australorps, and more. While this venture taught my son the responsibilities of caring for animals, it also taught him the stark reality of life. One morning before leaving for kindergarten, Jake's friend burst into the house to tell me Jake's chickens were dead. Running to the granary, there stood my 5-year-old son with a tear-streaked face, surrounded by the carcasses of his feathered pets that had been ruthlessly slaughtered by a mink. At least half of the birds were dead and another handfull were clinging to life by a slim margin.

Fortunately, Kellie and Mellie were astute (or just plain lucky) enough to stay put on their elevated roost during the marauder's attack. We moved the surviving birds into the waterhouse. We did catch the mink and Jake did rebuild his flock - however, more slowly this time. His crowning achievement was winning Grand Champion hen at the FDL County Fair with his white cochin hen, Mrs. Salt (Mr. Salt took second in the crowing contest). As Jake got older, his interest in chickens waned as his involvement in sports and school grew. After the last chicken went into the stew pot, we never did have chickens afterward although I was tempted a time or two, but that feeling passed quickly.

Now as a senior at UW-Madison, he blushes whenever we mention his passion for chickens when he was a little boy. However, the payoffs from that long ago hobby -hard work, perseverance and responsibility - continue to hold him in good stead as he nears his Bachelor of Science Degree. And no, it's not poultry science!