Chicken Little Shop of Horrors: Rural Life is a Freak Show

I’ll never understood why city folk think that living out in the boonies is boring. After all, where else can you chase after a chicken barefoot through the front yard (with a diaper-only baby on your hip) just to capture a picture of a mouse hanging from the yard-bird’s beak? Yep, that’s right. A mouse.

I have seen many strange things while living out in the country, but this was by far one of the freakiest. (Turns out this is pretty common, but we’re relatively new to raising chickens. You can see a video of such activity here.) My husband told me he’d seen it a few days ago, but I didn’t quite believe him. He’s not prone to making things up, but I have to see things to believe sometimes. (I’m sure he adores that quality. Snicker.)

Sure enough, while standing at the kitchen sink this morning, I saw one of our tall, slender hens dashing across the front yard with a medium-sized, gray field mouse dangling from her mouth. “There it is!,” I shrieked to my daughters, and grabbed the camera. I bolted out the front door only to hear the baby revolting behind me. Oh yeah, better take her along. I slung her up on my baby-carryin’ hip and chased that chicken all the way to the just-cut wheat field. “Ouch, ow, yikes!” (This was the sound of me stepping on gravel and stickers along the way.)

Finally, I got close enough to snap a few pictures. (FYI, chickens do not yield to the command, “Stop!” It only makes them run faster.) Facing the morning sun just coming up over the horizon, I couldn’t really see what was in the view-finder. So, I squatted down, pressed the button a few times, and hoped for the best.

This was the result. Yes, rural life is a freak show. And I’m happy to have a front-row seat.