Things happen. Yes, they do. Good. Bad. And everything in between. Esmerelda found this out one warm summer afternoon. She was sleepily perched atop the waterer in her temporary home, a trailer housing around fifty or sixty of her fellow flock mates, when her lazy afternoon was suddenly interrupted. “Oh, she’s a pretty chicken!” my daughter exclaimed pointing to Esmerelda.

“We’d like to adopt that one please,” I said to the shopkeeper. So, in he went, fully intent on capturing the beautiful chicken. She was a breed called ‘Ameraucana’. They are easily distinguished from other breeds by the tufts of feathers around their ears which give them the appearance of having a beard. The Ameraucana is an American version of the ‘Araucana’ originally from Chile. They are also one of the few chicken breeds that lay blue and green eggs.

“This won’t take long,” the shopkeeper informed us as he carefully opened the door to the trailer. Esmerelda had other plans. Just as soon as the shopkeeper reached out to grab her, Esmerelda jumped down off that waterer and ran as fast as she could to the other end of the trailer. She zig-zagged up and down, over and under and in between her flock mates, who were now also running this way and that, squawking in panic. Feathers flew. Chickens ran and clucked in protest. Roosters crowed at the tops of their lungs.

Esmerelda was stealthy and very fast. Approximately fifteen minutes later, an exhausted shopkeeper and one very hysterical chicken emerged from the trailer. We put her in our boys’ carrier that we had lined earlier with fresh shavings. Star and Duke weren’t going to the vet anytime soon, so I knew we could use the cat carrier as a temporary coop. “She’s a feisty one,” we all said. I was slightly concerned about how she’d get along with our girls at home. They were all older and set in their ways. “I hope those guys don’t pick on Izzy (short for Esmerelda),” I said to my daughter.

“We should get another one to keep her company,” she answered. All of the chickens for sale were only a few months old with plenty of laying years ahead of them.

“Ok, sure. Why not?” I replied. We went back to the trailer to peruse the many hens awaiting a forever home. One, in particular, stood out from the rest. She was pure white with a bright red comb and wattle. We caught each other’s gaze and our eyes locked. I had never considered adopting a white chicken. But there was something about this one. She looked longingly at my daughter and me, almost as if to say: “Take me with you. I’ll be a very good girl.”

“Look at the her,” I called my daughter over. “Aw, she’s adorable.” The hen stood there so peacefully, and she was so lovely. She looked like a little angel. “We’ll call you Lily,” I cooed to her as she willingly went with the shopkeeper from the trailer to the cat carrier. She and Izzy sat down quietly together and didn’t make a peep the whole way home.

After a nice dinner and plenty of water, we put Lily and Esmerelda outside in their own separate area so they could see the other girls and the other girls could see them. Brownie and Gert had been through this before and just rolled their eyes and went about their day. Porridge was very interested in getting to know her new playmates. She ran over to their fenced area and immediately started to tell them all about herself and about how much fun they were all going to have together. And finally, Checkers. Well, Checkers was not interested in this upheaval and less than thrilled about the intrusion. She walked by them a dozen times, looking at them only out of the corner of her eye. “Oh boy,” I sighed, “she’s going to be trouble.”

The next day, all seemed to be going smoothly and better than expected. Lily and Esmerelda would remain separated from the others for a week or so, until everyone got to know one another. Although they were able to see each other through the poultry netting, the two young ones were not happy to be limited to just their little area and desperately tried to fly over the fencing. Their attempts to fly over the fence only led to them being stuck in the fence. “Geez, that is not good!” I said to my husband. Although the young hens’ area was not hooked up, the rest of the yard’s fencing was electrified.

“It’ll only take one time touching the fence and they’ll learn,” he said. Poor babies, I thought to myself. What a quandary. Do I merge them with the flock and risk the little girls being hurt by the others – more specifically, Checkers, who was very disgruntled at this point. Or do I let them try to figure the fence out?

I did not have to deliberate for very long. “Honey!” my husband hollered. “Look out the window!” I ran to check out what had gotten him so rattled. There was sweet, innocent, angelic little Lily on the OTHER side of her fence right in the middle of our four big girls!

“Geez! Oh geez!” I yelled as I charged outside. At the precise moment I arrived at the side yard, Izzy proceeded to fly right over her area, over the electric fence and into the back yard! “Little stinkers!” I scolded them. Brownie, Gert, and Checkers were now squawking and clucking and running all over the yard. Porridge, on the other hand, had sauntered over to Lily who had crouched down into the grass, now regretting the escape. And Esmerelda, true to her stealthy, speedy nature, was sprinting all over the back yard trying to figure out how to get back in with the others. “How am I going to control six spazzy, freaked out chickens?” I ran to the shed and grabbed the treat bucket, back to the fence and flung treats into the side yard. The distraction worked. All five girls calmed down and dove for the mealy worms to see who could gobble up the most. “Now to get Esmerelda back in without getting her zapped by the fence,” I whispered to myself. I hadn’t even finished my sentence, when she ran right toward it, flapped her wings a few times and flew high over the top, landing safely back in the side yard. Now, I had heard stories of fellow chicken mommies finding their young family members perched high in neighboring trees. But I never thought for a minute that one of them would be mine. “Don’t you guys know how dangerous it is out here? Naughty girls,” I called to Lily and Izzy who looked at me as if to say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!?”

“Alright, back in your yard you go,” I said as I ushered the two of them back to their assigned area. Fortunately, dusk was upon us and all of the ladies were now tired and eager to settle onto their perches. “Enough excitement for one day,” I thought to myself. I spent a few minutes with our big girls, telling them how pretty they were, and what good girls they were, and that everything was going to be okay. And I spent a few minutes with our two new little ones. I assured them that they’d be so happy here and that Brownie, Gert Porridge and even Checkers would be nice to them, and that we were so glad that they were part of our family.

Yes. Things happen. The past year was a hard one for us. But seasons change and life goes on. There will be challenges, a few pulled out feathers, some arguing, and I’ll probably find a hen or two over the fence from time to time. But all and all, adopting Esmerelda and Lily has turned out to be so wonderful. All six of our girls are content and peaceful and sweet. “Goodnight my babies,” I called to them. “Love you and I’ll see you in the morning when we will all start another new day together”.

Cindy Bezanson