Cluck-cluck

Would you like fresh eggs she asked? Man, would I ever! I had them from your friend a few months ago and they taste so much better than your run of the chicken-mill egg. Well I'm thinking of getting a few chickens and you could have some of the eggs when they come. Great! I'd love that. Popovers, fluffy omelets, lofty bread. I can just picture it now. The chickens come. Oh Linda, they are so nice. I really like having them around. They are really tame and starting to lay eggs. Why even Ella can just walk around in the coop and they don't even bother. Sounds neat! We'll have to come see the chickens real soon. The phone rings a week or more later. Hi. We have a soccer meet to go to this weekend. Any chance you could come out to our place while we're gone and get the chickens in the coop for the night? Sure that sounds fine. We'll be around and try to get out there before dark and get them put to bed. We drive into the yard. Oh look! There they are. They're so cute (except for the couple bald spots on two of them). We look and make clucking noises to them (why in the tarnation do you feel compelled to do that to a chicken or moo to a cow for that matter?) Well I do and so I cluck away. Then after a few minutes it is time to get down to business. There is a lovely coop and sixteen supposedly willing chickens to go into their little roosting spot. So I go in and fill the feeder. Make sure there is ample water. Then look around and see only one chicken is in the coop. Hmmm. You can't call a chicken like a dog. If you chase them all you're going to hear is a loud 'SQUAWK' feathers to boot. So I decide to quietly walk towards the feathered fowl and see if they venture to the coop. A couple do! I'm in business. So I walk the other way and three head into the coop and two come out (bad math problem going on here). Ok, walk the other way, walk the other way, walk back. Get frustrated and start to yell. Ooops. Squawking and feathers. Walk away exasperated. Are those stinking eggs worth it? Oh yeah! I'm supposed to gather the eggs! Breakfast in the morning! I go back into the coop. I look. One golf ball. And ONE.. count it... ONE egg. And now NO chickens in the coop. Really bad math now. Ok. Duane? How do you get chickens in a coop? He looks at me with disdain. You better call the chicken owners and see what they do. I hear lots of snickers. Guffaws. Tee-hees on the phone. Walk slowly. Carry a board or shovel to keep them from running past you they advise. Uh-huh. Throw bread into the coop and they'll come. So I try the new revised plan and it is working! Chickens are a runnin'! I'm not even clucking. Quietly they all plod towards the coop. Except Mr. White Meat chicken (not a layer) is kinda being mean to little hen girl. Then I look! Fifteen (count 'em!) are in the coop. All but one. Um Rob? What do I do? I have only fifteen in the coop but one isn't going in. I walk this way and Duane walks that way. She climbs under a fence. We try another option. No luck. Has anyone told a chicken how dumb they are? Good grief! We walk and try and coerce and finally I start to cluck again. But Mrs. Hen isn't planning the coop is for her tonight. So after about ten minutes I decide she's going to be coyote bait if nothing else. Is that ok Sarah? Yeah, she's only worth $2, but she'll probably live through the night. So that wrapped up our fun at the farm tonight. Fifteen safe little hens. One outside wondering how in the world she's sitting there waiting for the door to open with all her friends inside. I feel a twinge of worry. But I have to remember... it is only a chicken!!! I'm hoping for a dozen eggs next week...! And maybe a privilege of chicken-sitting again!!! Or maybe I'll just stick with Ella (a resident of the chicken ranch)