Rubbing Feathers with the Commoners

Demand for our eggs has lately exceeded production, so I looked on Craigslist today for any laying hens for sale. There was one, about a half hour's drive away, for sale for $10, but it was a show hen, a Silver Tipped Wyandotte. Still, show hens lay eggs! So I determined to buy it.

We drove out to this farm in the middle of nowhere, an exceptionally tall man came out of the house, and I had the opportunity to say something I've always wanted to say:

"I'm here to see a man about a chicken."


It turns out there's a peak age for a showing hen, and our little number seven (she has a number seven band on her leg) has peaked, and now she's old news. She was a winner, but nothing gold can stay.

The poor dear went and hid after we brought her home:

It must be horrible to be rubbing feathers with such commoners.

Little Z said she saw Friend Chicken peck Number 7 (who has a name, but darned if I can remember it- I want to call her Seven of Nine) repeatedly. "She pecked her, like, twenty times!" said Little Z. Not very friendly, Friend Chicken!

I checked in on Seven of Nine later, and she was doing fine, no longer hiding. She looked gorgeous. The only thing was, she didn't know where to sit.


  1. She's also very friendly. I was just out petting her back in the barn. Then I tried petting some of the little chickens next to her, and they seemed to like that. So I pet some of the older chickens, and they let me, too. They are all so soft! I even pet Pokey the Rooster. My goodness. So many pretty chickens.