notes from the farm,  The Gift of Animals

A Surprise Visitor

February 18, 2019 /

The wind howled outside, and icy snow pelted our double glass door. Judd and I sank a little deeper into our matching brown recliners and enjoyed the warmth of the wood stove.

I had decided earlier not to go out in the snowstorm to check on the barnyard menagerie. I could see from the dining room window that the chickens (my two new red hens) had already disappeared into the coop; the absence of Donqui and Goatie at the gate was evidence they were already settled snug in their stalls. All was well and there was no need for my mothering. Yes, I could have shut the door to the coop, but who would be out prowling tonight for food in this storm, I reasoned.

Suddenly, we heard a tap-tap at the glass door. Looking questioningly at each other we both sat up straight. Was that heavy ice hitting the door now? I leaned out of my chair and strained to see what was there.

“NO!!” I uttered in disbelief. One of my little red hens, Hickety, was tapping at the door. What in the world!? I whispered. How had she managed to get up the steps of the deck and crawl behind a protective sheet of plastic that temporarily hung over the outside of the door? And besides, how did she know how to find us?

Stepping to the door, I spoke to her through the glass. “What are you DOING here?” Tap-tap-tap, she responded. As soon as I opened the door, she gingerly made her way inside.

Hum!! What to make of her behavior? Obviously, she was trying to communicate something. She had never done anything like this before.

Not knowing what else to do, I put my coat and boots on, scooped her up in my arms, and headed out into the snowy night to deposit her back in the barnyard to her coop.

The other red hen, Pickety, was also out of the coop wandering around in the middle of the storm. Once Hickety was back in the coop, it was not too difficult to persuade Pickety to go back home to her nest.

To this day it is a mystery. Why? How? Why not ever before or ever again?

< p class=”has-background” style=”line-height: 200%;”>A few weeks later we had one clue. Anya, our beloved friend-and-animal-caretaker, who was covering our chores while we were visiting family in another state, had discovered a possum in one of the nests of the coop. image1 (1)

Perhaps, Hickety was telling on him and we just did not get the message.

Oh, the stories our animal friends could tell if they just knew English.

I am a mother of three, grandma (Oma) of eleven, and wife of a wise and energetic husband. We are retired (me from teaching, Judd from counseling) and are enjoying a time of reflection, a time of volunteering and serving, and a time of stretching to meet the new challenges of ordering our days that we may present to Him hearts of wisdom.

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