Being Humbled

It's a funny thing, but since I've been writing on this blog, I find myself wondering about what I can write about next--all the time! I go over my day's events and decide if there was something of note about which to write. Some days are more eventful than others, of course. Yesterday was a pretty good day.

I live out in the country and have a fair number of farm animals. You like to believe that you are in charge, but you're really not. When an animal makes up its mind to do something, you've met your match. I have several portable pens with chickens in them. One of them is just beyond my backyard. Amazingly, the two hens (and one rooster) in this pen hatched out two chicks about six weeks ago. I say amazing because the non-mother hens and rooster will not usually allow survivors. These two little chicks are thriving.

Sunday afternoon I went to feed and water them and to my suprise one of the baby chicks was outside the pen wandering the perimeter. As I am looking at the chick wishing I owned a butterfly net, my cat walks up and says, "Yes!!!" By the time I chased the cat away, the chick was in a dither. I might as well have been the cat. There was no understanding on the part of the chick that I was there to help. We played peek-a-boo around the corners of the pen and I tried to frisbee-toss a food dish over top of the chick, all to no avail. I opened the door to the pen hoping the chick would notice as it walked by and just hop back in before the other hens hopped out. No, it was not to be.

I asked my husband to help by standing at one end of the pen to sort of marshal it toward me but the chick wiggled through an opening in the fence and went out into the pasture. My goats, being curious by nature, walked over to it and helped herd it back into the yard. So all this time, I am thinking about how this six-inch tall creature is absolutely outwitting me at every turn. As I watched that little imp dart in and out and over and through, I felt like a great big, clumsy clod. I don't usually think of myself that way I can assure you.

It was really hot yesterday and both the chick and I were getting tired. My husband couldn't offer any real help because he had surgery this summer and was still recovering. I simply gave up. I decided that ignorance might be bliss and when my daughter and her boyfriend came home for dinner, I would ask them to go catch the chick. They had no idea what they were in for as they readily agreed to the task. Youth is a great thing. We sat inside and laughed as they tried one thing after another to catch that little bird. At one point my daughter was standing on the deck with the grill cover raised over her head waiting to drop it when the chick ran below her. Finally, Travis was on his knees at the base of our fig tree which is overgrown with ivy at the base, his head deep inside the tangle. He came out triumphant with the chick in his hand.

The ordeal was over. I truly hope that chick had a horrible day out because I just might let the cat have it the next time it escapes. I might be the worker bee around my house, but I'm not sure who is really in charge.

P.S: I use Donovan's Word Jar as an intro to the Great New Words activity which runs all year in my room.