The young man who takes care of our chickens when we’re away did his usual bang-up job on Wednesday, when Liz and I made a day trip to Boston. But “the girls” took note of our return when I released them from the coop first thing this morning.
Initially, it was business as usual for Snow, Nellie and Hope, who dug right into their breakfast with seeming indifference to my presence. But that changed after I cleaned the coop and squatted down outside the pen to exchange pleasantries with the hens.
It seemed to be the sound of my voice that did the trick. As I talked to the hens, Snow and Nellie walked over to my side of the pen, where Snow began talking back in her loud, bossy voice. For her part, Nellie stood stock still and eyed me quietly but intently for several seconds with that tilt of the head that is so common to birds, as if to say: “Hey, you're back!”
Hope did not participate in the “welcome home” festivities, but as Meat Loaf once explained in an entirely different context, “two out of three ain’t bad.”
