[For your reading pleasure, a fiction “free write” assignment by my 12-year-old son…]

by Dale Freier III

Maybe I shouldn’t have brought the chicken to school today, thought Ben as he walked home. He carried a metal cage in his right hand. The hot afternoon sun shone brightly in the sky, but despite the good weather, Ben was still in a bad mood.  What had happened today turned out to be a disaster!

He hadn’t meant to leave Popcorn’s cage unlocked. He thought about what had happened this morning during show-and-tell.  His teacher said that he could bring Popcorn to school, as long as he handled him well. Looking back, that probably didn’t work out too well.

It all started when Elijah asked the fatal question: “Can I hold him?”  Ben, who had no idea what was about to happen, nodded.

“Sure, as long as you don’t let him go,’’ he said. Then he added, “And also, be sure to keep him away from your face.  He is a rooster, you know.  He might peck or scratch you.” Ben unlocked he cage and pulled out the squawking rooster.  Popcorn was a Buff Orpington rooster, a golden-colored breed.

Ben handed Popcorn to Elijah.

“Hold him by your waist. Yes, like that,’’ Ben told him. “Keep a firm grip on him so he can’t get away.’’

“Why do I have to hold him down by my waist?” Elijah protested. “I’m strong enough! I’m not about to let some little chicken get the best of me—”

“Yeah, sure,’’ Ben snapped. “I bet you know allllll about them.’’ By the end of his statement, Ben’s voice had earned a sarcastic tone.

“Boys, no fighting.’’ Came a loud, muffled voice from behind the teacher’s desk. Or rather, from behind a stack of papers.

Now, by this time, all of the other kids had figured out what was going on. They all clustered around Elijah and Ben and they were all screaming random statements: “I want to hold it!’’ screamed Sarah, and “Oooo, let me touch it! I need to pet it!’’ begged Matthew, and “It’s so FLUFFY, I’m GONNA DIE!!!’’ shrieked Jeremy, which confused Ben because chickens weren’t fluffy. They had feathers.

Anyhow, maybe it was all the screaming and yelling, or maybe it was the loud voice that boomed, “Now, now class! Don’t get to wound up.’’ or MAYBE it was Jeremy who had shrieked “DIE!’’ in his loudest shriek, but somehow Popcorn had escaped Elijah and was now running freely underneath the desks and around screaming kids, feet and eventually, the Buff Orpington rooster ran right out the door and down the hall and … right into the principal’s office!

To make a long story short, Ben finally recaptured Popcorn, but not before getting a suspension and a detention for egg yolk stains on the principal office’s walls. Which also confused Ben, because roosters don’t lay eggs.

Dale and rooster (but not a Buff Orpington…)

As a child growing up in New York City, I lived in a six floor apartment building, on the 6^th floor.  It was a two bedroom apartment, and since my parents had four children, with usually either an aunt or an uncle or a grandparent living with us, it was a bustling place.  My first experience with pets, however was in this apartment.  We had fish, finches, parakeets, hamsters, and guinea pigs.  Probably not all at the same time, but still, we all liked animals and we did what we could in the confines of the big city.  But the problem with these pets, was that they were always in cages, or tanks.  We could never really create a bond with them.  I don’t even remember their names…Therefore, not very impressive companions.

On a farm, however, with the ample space of a barn and land, the first type of animals we decided to get were chickens.  As a lot of people know, all you need is a backyard for chickens.  They don’t take up too much space, they are not too big, they eat insects and their waste is good for gardens.  Lastly, they make fresh eggs… I love fresh eggs…

Captain as a chick

Captain today

What really impressed me was how my kids bonded with the chickens.  They named each little chick and even as the chicks grew, the kids continued to know who they were.  We now have more than thirty chickens, so this continues to impress me.  The kids hold them and play with them, un-phased by the fact that the chickens are ten times their original size.  The kids take note of their different (simple) personalities and behaviors and take personal pride of each chicken as they begin to lay an egg…

You know you are not in the city any more when your first grade child asks his teacher if it is okay to bring his new little chickens in for show and tell.

First Grade Show & Tell

You know you live on a farm, when your other child (7^th grader) writes a story for his English class about someone bringing chickens into school for show and tell. [next post]

You know things could be a lot worse, when your other other son (6^th grader) spends hours reading through the chicken catalog and chooses to spend his own money on a new breed (for us) called the Black Jersey Giants.

You know you have a chicken life when you have to go egg hunting in the hay rack when you let your chickens free range…

Found 2 eggs!