My hens are rugged. I admire them. There’s something beautiful about creatures, alone in a wilderness except for me to provide for them occasionally, and they do not fear. They are not riled up about this or that. They don’t abuse the other birds in the yard. There is a harmony that exists, to the degree the animals have social compacts with each other, perhaps.

The birds from Canada blend nicely with our rugged, New England birds that don’t go south for the winter. Chickadees, cardinals, Blue Jays, all find room in the sky and take turns at the feeder. It is possible when there is a crowd at the feeder, for birds to freely fly somewhere else. That is the wonder of free birds, there are lots of “seeds” to choose from. Our whole landscape is full of food producing plants and trees. Pine trees, according to Thoreau, open cones when it is windy, and gradually shower their seeds for maximum distribution through out the season. Birch trees release seeds gradually all winter. A continual supply!

Of course, the birds don’t need me to tell them that. I am simply fascinated by it All and seeking the harmony that exists. Seeds, wind, trees, and liberty. The happy harmony is pleasant to observe.

My hens wander freely near my house, and I enjoy how healthy and strong they are getting from exercise. Liberty makes them safe from predators because they can fly away when they need to escape. They are stronger and more alert than hens that languish in too confined spaces. Just like when we exercise, it makes us feel alive.

I like that my birds come back in the evening. They don’t have to, technically. Seems they like me! No resentment, no oppression. Perhaps they instinctively ‘know’ that it can be nerve racking being free all day, by yourself, with potential predator threats. They must know this, because they neatly meander from tree to bush to hedge, all places where they have branches to disguise them. Sort of like the Pink Panther sneaks in people’s homes from couch to chair to lamp.

My husband and I continued our conversation about Rat. Although I retain my previous opinion that all things in nature serve a purpose, I realize the purpose may be only to teach us things. My husband noted that rats infest unkempt places- citing dirty conditions in the cities during the Middle Ages.

Rats prey upon our excesses. My mother had regularly left a pile of food outside the house. Every day. And Rat has been in the neighborhood ever since. I scolded my mother finally when the Bobcat showed up. I think he could take my little mother and I’d have another Greek tragedy on my hands.  

My latest criticism of Rat is: Why doesn’t he go gather food like all the other rodents? Why is his single object to attach itself to the hens’ food supply- reducing it certainly and possibly contaminating it? He’s not likely carrying the Plague otherwise we’d be forced to get vaccines. But he may just have germs, spreading contamination. He is a scavenger after all. God knows what he eats.

Possibly hen’s immune system will discourage any too serious germ problems from Rat. Squeeze is still sneaking about and occasionally grabs some food. So, I must keep up their healthy diet and exercise routine. Fresh air, sunshine.

My husband and I will have to agree to disagree on Rat, until further notice. We can add that to our list of other things we disagree on: Like why the North won the Civil War? I think the Anglican South was wrong and Pride is not a virtue. Virtue makes one strong unlike vanity. Vanity is a vice! We’ve a date this weekend to continue that conversation.