Chickensicle

“‘Get chickens’, they said. ‘It’ll be fun’ they said,” I grumbled to myself as I forced my foot into my boot. “Fun my asterisk!”

​I wrapped my scarf around my neck and then put my hood up. Walking out the door, the single digit temperatures immediately began to settle deep within my bones. I looked behind me into the house as my mom bundled herself up. Switching on the flashlight, I scanned the deck and quicklyspotted several feathered butts that were shivering under the patio furniture.

​Earlier that afternoon, my mom spoke with a lady from another farm in the area who has been raising chickens for years. She said that chickens are hardy enough to withstand this early cold snap that doesn’t normally hit Central Oklahoma untilFebruary. I fought with the chickens all morning trying to keep them in the coop's warmth.  However, every time I opened the door to give them food and make sure their water had not frozen, they tried to escape, so I decided to let them out to free range for the afternoon like they normally do. Oh, how I regret that decision now.

​When I returned home from school that evening, just beforesunset, I saw the chickens were still roaming around rather than going into the coop for the night. I went inside to do my homework after collecting the rest of the eggs, making sure they had water, food, and a crack snack for the night. However, when I went back out, an hour later, all of them were still sitting, huddled together on the deck and underneath the deck stairs.

​I huffed out a breath, causing a cloud of smoke to form in front of my face because of the cold. Walking towards the bench on the deck, my feet slipped on the ice. I held my arms and legs out to steady myself so I wouldn’t fall, which I so did not need at that moment. If I didn’t love these crazy chickens so much, I would have left them out to freeze into little chicksicles. However, I have already spent seven months working hard to keep these chickens happy and healthy, I wasn’t about to leave them to their own devices. My mom and I even spent $300 on surgery to repairing the wing of one of our speckled chickens after she was attacked by an eagle. Then, not even a week later, the same chicken was dragged away by a neighbor’s dog, sending me running eight acres away to get her back. That poor girl has been skittish ever since, which made sense why she stayed hidden under the bench. These chickens keep me busy daily, and constantly fill me with anxiety after having to run offeagles and dogs to keep them alive.

​My mom came out of the house dressed like and Eskimojust like me. “Did the door shut before they could get in?”

​I shook my head as I carefully inched across the deck. “It’s actually frozen open.” Kneeling in front of the bench, I reached under to grab the black and white rooster with blue tail feathers. “Why didn’t they go back to the coop like they always do?”

​As I grabbed hold of Harley, our rooster, he squawked and flapped his wings in furry. Keeping a strong hold on Harley, I held my face away as debris from his flapping wings went flying towards my face. My mom came up behind me and pinned Harley’s wings to his side to calm him down.

​She held him out to me, and I held him close to keep him calm. I moved forward to step down the deck, but almost slipped on the ice again. “I’m going to go get the salt, so we don’t killourselves out here.”

​While she was sprinkling salt on the deck, I carried the rooster to the coop that looked more like the Monster House with the red heat lights shining through the windows. We went back and forth between the coop and the deck with the snow crunching underfoot, and icy wind freezing our cheeks as wemoved the rest of the chickens one by one off the deck.

​After getting the chickens off the deck and putting them into the coop, we were still missing 10 girls. My mom and I looked around our three-acre homestead and finally found them huddled together way underneath the stairs of the deck. I was able to gather the first six that were within my arm’s length underneath the steps. However, after moving the first six, the four remaining chickens pressed themselves closer together and moved against the farthest wall, out of my reach. My mom had to stand on the top of the steps using a hanger in between the slots of the decking to push them out of their hiding spot. I imagine we looked like Laurel and Hardy out there chasing chickens.

​I squeezed myself into the little opening under the steps as best as I could. While under the steps, I had to hold my breath as to not breathe in the chicken poop that was piled up under there. In the area closest to me, under the bottom step, I found a large hole where the chickens have apparently been digging a hole to China. It was also dark because my flashlight beam did not shine all the way to the back of their makeshift hidey hole.

​The last chicken was kicking up the dirt towards me as she tried to scurry as far away from me as she could. I blew out my breath and shimmied myself further under the deck stairs. Cold was seeping through my jeans and was making my legs numb. I froze while trying to shimmy myself further in and panicked a little at not being able to take a breath as the wood constrictedmy chest. Taking as big of a breath as I could, I tried to gain traction on the cardboard under me I was using to keep the gravel from digging into my knees. With one last lunge forward, I grabbed her legs and held her in place.

​“Squawk!” the chicken cried, as she splayed her wings out to either side, trying to hold on to the ground. As I tried to inch my way back out from under the deck stairs, I felt my arm and back being pinned by the rough wood, as the arm gripping the chicken’s leg stayed outstretched. Taking in a deep breath, I was stopped short by my ribs being compressed. Oh, no, no, no!

​I was stuck under the deck by myself with the chicken while my mom was inside, trying to warm up water for the chickens. “Mom!” I tried to cry, but she didn’t come out, which I knew she wouldn’t because the house is practically soundproof to the things going on outside.

​I relaxed and looked around for a solution to my predicament. Blowing out a breath to try and remove the dirt from my face, I only kicked up more of it, sending dirt and chicken poop into my eyes. Brushing my eyes against my outstretched arm, I felt the pressure against my ribs loosen a little. I shimmied my shoulders a bit and freed my one shoulder. “HA!”

​Using my knees, I pulled myself out from under the stairs as I yelled at the chicken. “You thought I was going to give up, didn’t you? No!”

​As I sat back up after getting out of the poop sanctuary, I felt like Andy from Shaw Shank Redemption after he escaped out of the sewer pipes to freedom. The chicken continued to flap her wings, trying to get out of my hold.

​As I flattened her wings to her side, she finally calmed down, but continued to shiver. With chicken in arm, I marched up the steps of the deck and into the house. My mom turned around from warming up the water to look at me. I held the chicken out in front of me with a manic smile and twitchy eye. “Victory! I have retrieved the last chicken!”

​After making sure the chickens had everything they needed for the night, I victoriously cracked the eggs that could have possibly been their offspring into a frying pan. Then sat down and enjoyed the best scrambled eggs I’ve had in my life.

©All writing property of R. M. McDermott LLC