Chickens have nothing to fear but fear itself

Getting up-close and personal with our chickens - nine hens and two roosters - has led me to believe that fear is not what drives your average chicken.

The use of the word "chicken" to describe a person who is frightened is misleading, as it fails to take into account the true nature of chickens.

The flock at our home grew substantially recently. We now have 11 chickens parading around in a free-range environment, i.e. a coop in the corner of the barn, a pasture and some old tires filled with hay.

Getting up-close and personal with our chickens - nine hens and two roosters - has led me to believe that fear is not what drives your average chicken. (I'm not sure they're even smart enough to possess fear.)

The use of the term "chicken" should really be connected with a host of other traits.

. Bullies could reasonably be called "chickens."

Little Jerry is a large Rhode Island red, forced out of his former home because his boisterous 5 a.m. wake-up call wasn't sitting well with his old owners. Little Jerry is a beautiful bird, but his model good looks don't satisfy his oversized male ego. Probably in hopes of impressing the chicks, he picks mercilessly on Technochicken, and the hens, quick to develop a vicious pack mentality, follow his lead.

I've never seen, nor do I want to see, the abuse in action. But Technochicken, a black rooster of indeterminate breed, was obviously hounded until he ended up with a nasty bald spot on the back of his head. (He's now spending nights in separate quarters, though, so things are looking up.)

. People who are impressed by external, superficial things could be tagged "chickens." Even though he's a bit of a jerk, Little Jerry is obviously the big man in the coop.

He was blessed with obvious superiority in chicken conformation, with his lovely range of colors, his symmetrical comb and masculine bulk. By contrast, Technochicken is smaller and he's a bit funny-looking, with white feathers sprouting in a circle around his head like flower petals.

Little Jerry also has a deep, resonant crow, which he likes to show off, early and often, while Technochicken's voice is a bit on the weak and whiny side.

. Someone who doesn't take a hint could bear the "chicken" label.

Though picked on and scorned by polite society and always the loser in a fight, Technochicken insists on following Little Jerry around when they're out in the pasture. Little Jerry turns on him and chases him away - and then here comes Technochicken, back for more rejection.

. Football players who bump into each other's chests after they've scored touchdowns could be "chickens."

When our friend first brought over the new members of the flock, they spent a good deal of time mingling with the old chickens, smashing into each other, wings out and chest first, in some perverse exercise in chicken bonding.

. Unproductive people can be "chickens."

With nine hens, we're averaging about one egg a day, sometimes less. To increase their egg production, we've been told that the hens probably need more light - as much as 14 hours.

Or maybe they're just lazy, ungrateful little poultry specimens who deserve to be on the dinner table, except that they are some of the most entertaining little creatures that could ever grace your property.

And they're not at all afraid.

Reporter Heidi Gaiser may be reached at 758-4431 or by e-mail at hgaiser@dailyinterlake.com