The day started out ordinary and beautiful, and typical of a ranching day, that was sure to change.  The cowboys were gone so something was bound to go awry. 

After coming home from getting my hair cut I had a call from The Rancher’s mom across the way.  She was somewhat in distress because the chickens were out.  You may not think that this is much of an issue but I assure, it is.

I wish that we had the picturesque Little House on the Prairie farm where the chickens and bum calves ran around free… Lovely pets that nestle and come at a melodic call.  But that isn’t what we have here folks.

We have wild calves that in their wild roaming they roam into the chicken coop.  They reek all sorts of havoc on that little coop, like dumping out the water, turning over the feed and ruining the feeders.  Of course this inspires more chaos as the chickens have been terrorized and set free.  Chickens wandering free is problematic- first because it means we have to hunt them down and get them back in.  But also because there is someone else hunting after the chickens… the ornery dog.

As good rancher wives we dedicated ourselves to finding the lost chickens, saving them from being dinner, and safely returning them to the coop.  It was a darn good thing that we were dedicated because it took FOREVER to wrangle up those chickens.  Have you ever herded chickens?  I think it is worse than cats.

They had scattered all throughout the sheds where the old junk has collected, the new tractors are parked, and everywhere in between.  We climbed under and over nasty, dusty, dirty, grimy… I actually don’t know what most it stuff was (but I did find a few treasures that would look lovely with flowers planted in them).  But we suffered through it and slowly, but surely, we gathered the chickens one by one back to the coop.

The real hero of the story is The Rancher’s mom, who by the way needs a better “Rancher Wife” blog name than that (if anyone has any great ideas).  She is so brave!   I don’t really do chickens.  I will chase them, cluck at them, gather their eggs, and occasionally squeal because of them but I won’t touch them (read pick them up in ANY sort of way).  But this lady scoops them up without the blink of an eye.  When she can’t just scoop them up she has a handy hook that snatches those chickens, just as if she was fishing.  And as she walks them back to the coop she sweetly reminds them that it is much better to stay in the coop, gives them a pat and lets them gently down.  I was so impressed at one point that I almost told her she was one good hooker lady, but I didn’t think that was very nice…  She has some sort of chicken super powers that any nasty chicken had better beware.