Warren Jeffs is Alive and Well in the Hen House

(I started this a while back, but didn't quite finish it 'til now, so even though it's old hat now, I'll send it along.)


Well, I've been helping out with the milking for a week now, so am quite comfortable around the chicks and even don't have to hold my nose any more. This morning as I was waiting for Deanne and her friend who was milking the other cow to fill their pails for me to strain and bottle, I really took notice of the chickens. To be honest, the first couple days in the barn, I thought they were all roosters because they all had those little red helmets and red beards. I remember wondering why they would have so many roosters and no hens, and why some of them were sitting up in the one of the eight hutches, and when they came out there was an egg in there! Finally, on the third day I gathered up the courage to show my ignorance and asked Deanne about it. She explained that only one is actually a rooster - the prettiest of the lot, plus he has a larger helmet and larger beard, plus a larger, plummier tail. When she pointed him out, the difference was so obvious I wondered how I'd missed it!

Anyway, today it was pretty quiet in the chicken world, but suddenly one of the hens was squaking from the corner behind the cows that were being milked. The rooster trotted over to just in front of me and squaked back at the hen. She actually squaked back, then the rooster trotted around a bit, squaking up a storm, while the hen was answering him every chance she got. I had already decided his name was Warren Jeffs, so now one of his harem had gotten misplaced and he was letting her have it! "Get over here right now, or you're going to be sorry!" he screamed at her. "No, pick on one of your other wives this time 'cause I'm not going anywhere," the pathetic hen retorted. "You'd better get your little hen feathers over here right now or I'll peck them out one at a time!" he shouted. "No, no, no! I'm not doing what you say any more! Come get me if you want, but I'm not coming out of this corner!"

Well, about this time the turkey that thinks he's a chicken (they've tried twice to seperate him out, but he always returned, so they just let him be and deceive himself) happened to walk past Jeffs and caught his jealous eye. Since Jeffs couldn't get his common law wife to listen, he went after the innocent turkey. He chased that turkey around the barn, across it, and around it again 'til his anger had subsided. By that time, all the hens were squaking, some were running around, wondering what in the world got ol' Jeffs rhiled up this time. They must have figured if they all give him a piece of their minds at the same time, he can't get even with them all. Jeffs spotted my new rain boots (will explain them later) and decided in the absense of a submissive hen, they'd have to do. Unluckily for him, I saw him move toward my feet, so I moved my feet toward him, and like all bullies, he backed off. I guess he gave up after that, as he quieted down and all seemed to get back to normal. That is, until the original rebellious hen appeared - then all hen-hell let loose. It was weird, though, as rather than attack her, the rooster decided to take his anger out on a pretty white hen. Her white feathers went all the way down her legs and even fanned out at her feet. She's definitely the prettiest of the hens in the henhouse. Ol' Jeffs got her down, though, and proceeded to peck at the top of her head! Several of the other hens decided to get back on his good side by joining him. By this time I was becoming quite concerned about the welfare of the white hen and asked Deanne if I should break up the fight or just let them be. "Well," she said non-chalantly, "if they don't get too ferocious we just let them be, but if they go too far, we break it up." I decided they'd gone too far, so, waving my hands at the fighting parties, not very nicely told Jeffs and his conspiring turn-coat hens to get off her and leave the poor thing alone. They did. Every one shuffled to their corners, Warren Jeffs The Rooster fluffed his feathers, reminding his harem who's the man, and plopped himself down on the spot.

Now, my new rain boots are quite pretty. Black plastic with white geometric designs on them, kind of 60's ish. The reason I bought rain boots is this. The chicken house floor is covered with a winter's worth of chicken poop. I hear it makes great fertilizer in the spring, and insulation for the hens in the winter. In the meantime, though, the "carpet fibers" were clogging every artery in the bottoms of my tennis shoes. I knew if I let it go on any longer, my shoes would be impossible to clean, and they deserved better. So, I spent $18 to save them and now I must say I have the most fashionable feet in the hen house!