Category : Blogs

Sub Category : LifeStyle

I had a 2012 Mazda 6, what I really needed was a truck. We were still fairly new to farm life but we were on a mission to pay off our property as quickly as possible. So instead of buying a used truck, we made due. I would stuff anything and everything into the trunk of my car... hay bales, grain, chicken feed, groceries- you name it and I’ve done it. Occasionally I would open the trunk of my car to pull feed out and I’d accidentally leave it open due to my busy state of mind. It was a pretty common occurrence because feed (especially chicken feed) is heavy. 
You should know in advance that chickens on the farm come and go. Sometimes they get taken out by predators. Sometimes they wander off (they aren’t exactly the smartest creatures)... so we only have a few hens that actually have names but they typically don’t get names unless they’ve done something incredibly interesting. One particularly scorching afternoon, I asked my husband if he wouldn’t mind making a quick run to the grocery store to pick up items I needed in order to make dinner. He grabbed my keys, closed the trunk and bumped his way down our dirt road to the highway. Time passed by and I began to wonder what had happened to him. I was almost to the point of being officially worried when I finally heard our car rattle up the driveway again. A few moments later and the front door was practically thrown open. In waltzed my husband with an armload of groceries acting like something had his feathers ruffled. 
“You have ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA what happened to me today!” He spat out with a glare in my direction 
“Did something happen with the car? Are you okay? You’ve been gone forever!”
“Oh something happened with car all-right. I’m pretty sure there’s an entire group of people back at Walmart who are still laughing about it right now.” He huffed.
“What do you mean laughing?”
“This is all YOUR fault! I went to Walmart to pick up the things you asked for. On my way there everything seemed fine. I don’t even remember hearing anything. I grabbed what you needed and when I went back to load the groceries into the car... out popped one of your chickens!!”
I gasped for a moment. 
“SERIOUSLY? What did you do?! Did you get it back?”
His eyes fired warning shots.
“Of course I got it back! Why do you think I’m so freakin’ late getting home?! I knew you’d be upset if I lost one so I chased the stupid chicken around the parking lot until I caught it. Do you have any idea how fast they run?! It ran under cars Lish. UNDER PEOPLE’S CARS! I spent an HOUR chasing YOUR chicken around people’s cars in the Walmart parking lot FOR YOU. People were pointing and laughing!”
By this time I couldn’t hold back my hysteria. The visual of my 6ft 2” soldier of a husband chasing my chicken around Walmart was more than I could bare. I was laughing so hard that my body was heaving for air, tears were pouring down my face, and I was pretty sure I peed a little. 
He slammed the groceries down onto the counter. “You better go get her because she’s still in the trunk. I’m pretty sure she laid an egg in there... and if you EVER forget to close the trunk again, I’m going to strangle you.”
My son overheard the conversation by this point and I was no longer the only one laughing. We raced out to the car together holding hands and wiping tears from our eyes. I lifted up the trunk and sure enough... out popped a large black hen. Nestled in the corner of some leftover hay and old empty grocery bags was a big fat pink egg. From then on we’ve had a black hen named Walmart who lives on our farm.