A very good friend of mine gave me a book of chicken portraits, “Literary Chickens” by Beth Moon. The photos are done so wonderfully; the photographer captures perfectly the personality of each of her little chicken subjects. The photos are all black and white and are paired with literary quotes that match the photo. It’s a wonderful book to look through. I am no where near that type of amazing photographer… but I do have a portrait for you.
Every flock has it’s eccentric little members. This is one of our most endearing, silly, and frustrating girls. She’s also one of our oldest members – she came from Ramona with me, along with the Three Sisters and Imen, they are the only remaining members of my original flock. This is Maeve. Also known as Maevy Gravy, Little Maeve, and other sundry names. She is a pistol. She does what she wants, when she wants and no one can tell her otherwise.
She never stays inside the coop run. Truth be told, she is not the only one. The smallest Banties seem to be able to come and go at will, but she is the one who ranges the farthest from the coop. She has always been a loner, but at times befriends others who seem to also be alone. Last spring, for the longest time, she was the friend of our now big rooster Gulliver. He was a special that came with a batch of meat birds and was very lonely once they were gone, so we put Maeve in with him and she helped him to become a chicken. Even when he was old enough to be out on his own, he followed Maeve around all day. Then, she just cut the ties. We find her out, all by herself, in all places.
Every afternoon, when we give the chickens a scratch grains treat, she is out waiting for Sue. She doesn’t go out into the fray with the other chickens, she hangs back until Sue is otherwise occupied. Then just hops up into the feed shed and helps herself to the grain destined for other places. Caught her red-handed one day, mackin’ out right out of the container. A few days ago I found her in there again and she had spilled the scratch out of the little container so she could get at it without stretching onto her tiptoes. Sue now keeps even the small containers in big containers so she can’t do that. She’ll figure out another way soon, I’m sure.
She’s our little eccentric hen and she’s a never ending source of amusement. She still lays the occasional egg and still becomes quite broody a couple times a year. She keeps on keepin’ on, to the beat of her very own drummer. She keeps getting closer and closer to the garden, one afternoon we’re going to see her in there digging through the straw. One little chicken with a big wide world to explore. At least she’s smart enough to come back to roost every night.
There is my portrait of the Little Maeve girl. We hope she stays with us for a while yet. I really like this one. Anyway, thanks for coming along on the tangent… next time we’ll see if there isn’t something more pertinent. Until then, as always~
Thanks for reading.