The Chicken in Winter

You can't really go outside at our house without a jacket. Even in the middle of the afternoon sunshine, you can see your breath. The deck hasn't been dry in weeks, because the water from the last rains froze, and it doesn't get hot enough during the day to melt the ice then evaporate the water before the sun goes down again.

In the mornings, I put on a 2-gallon pot of water when I wake up. When it's good and hot, Pirate Guillermo takes it outside, along with the chicken bucket. The hot water serves to break up the ice that's formed overnight in their waterer, making the water warm enough for them to drink. I went outside this morning and looked in on the chickens before I left for work. The ground is slick and crunchy from a layer of frost that's as thick as a dusting of snow most places. The contents of the chicken bucket were already pretty picked over and sad looking, but that won't stop the chickens from picking at them throughout the day.

I tossed a handful of raw cashews to the chickens. They were marginally interested, but Cargill ran every time I threw some to him. You heard me right. Cargill. Rhymes with "gargle." If you scroll back to the various pictures of the chickens, you'll see that he's the araucana that Peaches is holding up for the camera. He's an araucana rooster with a white cape. Quite dramatic and bird-of-prey looking. Cargill is now the Chosen Rooster for our flock. The other roosters will now end up with names like "marengo," "southern fried" and "arroz con migo." We chose Cargill because of all the roosters, he's the first to come when he hears our voices, and yet he's also protective of his flock. He chases the cat (but only Oswald, whom he seems to instinctively know he could take in a fight) and keeps an eye on the hens. And yet he's gentle with people. He perches on Pirate Guillermo's arm and takes treats gently from my hand. I gave him his own cashew and a pat on the head before I left.

So, hooray for Cargill.