Most every morning at the crack of dawn, she crows like a rooster. Every night she roosts in the Sugar Maple tree. I'm quite sure that if P.T. Barnum were still recruiting for his traveling spectacle of a circus (The Greatest Show on Earth) Olive would be famous by now.
Today she laid her first little egg in our grandson’s wagon out on our veranda. It was a light olive one, much like her mother before her who will occassionally lay a large round sage-colored egg, even though she’s about 6 years old.
Olive was one of 3 chicks that hatched on our farm last summer. One chick didn’t survive and the other was her mate, a large and loud crowing rooster. He was her constant companion and they did not live with the other chickens, but were completely carefree. They could not be confined to the coop, the chicken pen or the open range pasture where the other feathered friends are quit content.
A couple of months ago something happened to the rooster. Olive was left alone. She learned to crow two weeks later, which is rare for a hen, but not completely unheard of if they loose a mate and/or don’t associate with the other chickens. She has free range of the yard and the gardens. We’ve tried endlessly to catch her, especially this winter in the bitter cold. Just about the time you think you’ve got her, she will fly over the fence and get away. She survives anyway.
Until today, I was a little worried about Olive's feminenity. Then this morning, I heard her clucking loudly out on the veranda. She had just proved herself a worthy hen. I look forward to a long season of beautiful olive green eggs - and in the hope that she will want to re-unite with her mommy and the rest of the group!
Such is the life of Olive.
~ Gwen of IRISH ACRES