Fowl Sale

So I’m talking to my neighbor in the back the other day. She’s driving her John Deere mower along her grass next to the dead-end road, and I’m drinking coffee catching up with her. I tell her my last two chickens died. Murdered. ‘I never closed the coop at night. My fault entirely’. She says, ‘yeah, the coon’s got ’em’. And then she looks at me like I should know better.  Which I do. I just got lazy.

She told me there is always a “Fowl Sale” up in Yoder, which is a nearby Amish/Mennonite community. She didn’t know when the next one was, but I gave her my number (to call me if she needed anything; she’s finally out of chemo and recovering from cancer). A day later she calls me – ‘the Fowl Sale is tomorrow. Friday. Here’s how you get there’.

I drive up there with a pet carrier on the off-chance I find some pullets or chicks or not-too-old hens. I want birds that will appreciate me and enjoy some leafy vegetables from me. In truth, the last two birds were jumpy and bitchy and wanted no part of my giving spirit. (But that’s not why I didn’t close the coop).

I walked into a yard full of cages – chickens, Guinea fowl, rabbits, ducks, geese, a few pigs, and even an adorable puppy. Here’s what it looked like:

I got a bidding number from the ladies in the office (a clean garage – one side the office and the other side was home-made foods. Yes, I bought some pie and cinnamon rolls).

The office:

 

It’s an auction!! Which I just love.  They started with one auctioneer and then added another auctioneer.  The perfect pullets I wanted went for $18 a bird.  WAY to rich for me. I eventually bid on two pullets (after I lost the bid – but that guy only wanted roosters), and two other single hens.  Again, though, I was second bidder to men who wanted roosters. Suits me just fine, I thought. I spent a total of $10.

I call them the “Ratty Four”. They had poop all over their feathers so I had to wash them off. They’ll look better tomorrow.

They are securely locked up for the night!  That’s my commitment to them.