December 22, 2016 by The Citron Review
by Becca Borawski Jenkins
Sofia is the youngest hen and she comes running whenever we cook hamburgers on the grill. Today she took flight in pursuit of a dragonfly. It was quite a large dragonfly, I’ll give her that. It would have been worth the effort.
I remember the first time I threw a carcass to the flock. I’d made broth from a rabbit’s bones. I’d thought the hens would like the carrots and celery, but later I’d find the vegetables all exactly where I’d tossed them. It was a week before I found even some of the bones—smooth and clean like an archaeological find.
A week after that, I roasted a store-bought chicken. I thought we’d eaten every feasible morsel, I just wanted to see what they’d do. Oh, what they did—I could barely watch. When I did glance, they were looking at me, with their heads slightly sideways, that one-eyed stare.
We had to stop letting them out in the yard—they cause too much destruction and when I bend forward to tend the remains of the flowers they peck at my hands—so now I go into the coop twice a day to feed them. I told my husband, “God forbid I have a heart attack in there.”
Becca Borawski Jenkins is a writer and editor. She holds an MFA in Cinema-Television Production from USC. She lives with her husband in an RV they built by hand, on an off-grid homestead somewhere in the Idaho Panhandle.