The Return of Uno

Uno home at last, head stuffed into her feeding trough. Ava & Tina posing below the "lost chicken" sign we posted at the local store.

Well, we are all celebrating a huge triumph over all the pitfalls of life here! After 3 1/2 days of being out in the wilds of the neighborhood, amid cats, hawks, raccoons and who-knows-what, Uno has returned!!

I must admit, I wasn't very hopeful after the first 24-hours were over Monday night. My email to the neighbors only resulted in stories with sad endings. And, although I didn't want to believe Uno would follow the same fate, the girls clearly didn't believe. In their childhood innocence, being devoured by another creature in the cruel backyard wasn't even on their radar, nor did I want it to be. So, we did all the things a family "should" do when looking for a lost pet. On Tuesday, we made up a sign, which the girls colored, describing our lost chicken, and posted it at the local market among the other fliers. Both on the way there and on return trip, the girls are searching for her and calling her name. As we near home, we timidly enter the state-owned land between our house and the freeway. Some homeless people have cut the fence and there are well-used trails that zig-zag through the giant retaining walls that are terraced above the freeway. I'm reluctant to wander too far, not knowing what I'd come across in the company of kids. Although, we see no sign of Uno there either, Baby Brother has now picked up a new word after hearing it repeated for the last hour: "Uno."

I also created a craigslist ad and posted her picture to it. All that came back Tuesday was another story about pet chickens that had a sad ending too. Today's email, however, was different. When we got back from school, I'd received an email from the craigslist ad I'd created:

"hello, i don't know if this will be any help at this point, but I was in a truck that was getting onto [the freeway] near [your house] and we saw a small white hen on the side of the highway very close to the on ramp. I was afraid for it, but at work and unable to stop. hope this is somehow helpful. good luck! ~kila"

"Was this today? We live right above there...." I answered.

"today around 11am. the [freeway] on ramp near [basically your street]. my co-workers and i really hope you find it."

Wow! There's hope! So, I grab the phone and dial Paul. I tell him the good news. He says he's on his way home. Knowing it's been nearly 6-hours since this nice person saw her, I tell him I'm going to call Nonna and ask her to watch the girls so I go now to see if by chance she's still there.

Nonna's there in 2-minutes.

I first start out running. I reach the on-ramp and realize it would be pretty dangerous for me to just walk out on the freeway. I look to make sure she's not someplace easy for me to get to, but end up running back up the hill and getting into my car. It's commute time, so the on-ramp is slow to merge with the freeway, which is also clogged with traffic. As I approach the freeway, I can't believe that I actually see her on the side of the road! She's stark white against the green ivy that climbs up the retaining wall. It's surreal, actually, seeing a white chicken on a busy city freeway! I slowly inch my way up the traffic-clogged ramp and closer to where she is. I pull to the side, put on my indicators and confuse a bunch of people as I get out of the car and walk to the side. Slowly I walk up to Uno, making sure to talk softly. She lets me get close and only makes a small complaint when I pick her up. I'm SO thankful that she didn't scurry or dart into traffic! The people watching, stuck in the slow commute, are very confused -- did that lady just pick up a chicken? I can hear it in their bewildered faces. I carefully carry her and don't relax until the car door is closed and she's sitting in the passenger seat looking at me. I notice she's got a very dirty face, but is otherwise very healthy. I am so emotional, I nearly cry!

I make my way back onto the freeway and then off the next exit. Uno seems to be thankful already. She walks from the passenger seat and onto my lap. Next up to my arm. She rides perched on my arm and seems to enjoy watching the short drive home. She remains on my arm as we get out of the car and happily announce our arrival to the team of kids at home. Together we take her outside to the coup. She instantly flies down and starts pecking at the food like there's no tomorrow. I let her eat and then fill it up to the top. The water, too. She must be thirsty with all the hot weather we've been having. I can't believe she's been out there for 3 1/2 days!!

Everything settled, I get back to my computer and thank our craigslist friend:

"OMG! I just went down and FOUND HER! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You and your co-worker are AWESOME! You saved a little chicken's life and three little kids' hearts. Can we buy you a round of coffees and some home-made brownies for your next commute???"

He writes back: "no brownies needed, but wow! she's quite a survivor! my co-workers will be so glad. i'm really amazed and happy to know she's at home with her family again."

Well, we are too. Just take a look at Alessandro...calling "Uno" and blowing kisses....

GONE!

Well, we knew that there would be all sorts of stories to come out of our chicken-raising experiences. This is surely one that could have ended the whole series!

I remember yesterday, just after dark, that I didn't close the chickens in and left them to forage around the yard, just as they like to do. Since I was in Sacramento attending my cousin's kid's birthday, I called Paul, who stayed at home, to remind him to close the chickens in before the raccoons came out. When I get home, he's out in front. "Good," I think. "He can help me bring in these three sleeping kids." His eyes tell me he's deeply annoyed by this...or something else. He soon tells me he's been looking for chickens for an hour, "They're GONE!"

After I put the kids down, I go off with a flashlight and confirm what he says. I expect to see strewn feathers or at least a dirt pile where a struggle for life started/ended, but I don't see anything unsual. However, the chickens are not in our yard, nor are they in Nonna's yard next door. Paul and I shine the flashlight under her deck where tons and tons of old wood and building materials lay while we go over different scenarios about what could have happened to the chickens. Paul is so upset and angry at me and swears he's never getting chickens again; we're cruel and terrible guardians. He goes upstairs while I sit in the darkness listening for their cooing/roosting sounds. I get nothing. After about 45-minutes, I give up and go upstairs. As I pass Paul, he tells me that he's going to take a sledgehammer to the coup in the morning so I don't kill anymore innocent chicken-lives. A bit extreme, but I sense there is a little boy in that fury, upset about the unresolved lives of his little pets. I worry about how to explain this to the kids and soothe myself by researching different humane societies that adopt out chickens. Clearly this family loves raising chickens...

I go to sleep but am suddenly not tired. I can't believe I'm losing sleep over chickens! When sleep finally comes, I dream only about scenarios of finding chickens and hope to awake to hear their morning noises outside the window. However, when I do wake, it is still dark and 6am. I notice Paul's not in the bed and never made it, either. I wander around and find him sleeping in the basement with all the windows open. His ears are unusually aware; he awakes to tell me he was hoping to hear them during the night, wandering safely back into the yard so he could close the door behind them. I feel sorry for him as he's clearly fond and concerned about the chickens.

By 7am, the chickens would have started their normal routine of coming out of their boxes and starting to forage for food, waiting for me to come out and fill up their feeder and water. Hopeful and sad, I duck my head out amid getting 3-children ready to leave for school. Paul and I don't talk about it and he leaves for work. About 10-minutes later, he comes back in. "I heard them! They're in the corner lot! I think I saw two of them!" I run up to the neighbor's door and ring it. No one answers. I fly back. Paul asks what I'm doing. "I'm going to jump the fence and get them!"

"Get what, Mommy?" Ava asks. "The chickens," I answer. "What happened to the chickens, Mommy?" "They got lost last night." I go over my mother-in-law's fence and then over the 6-foot cyclone fence that separates her yard from the the next. Two of the chickens, Dos and Tres, are foraging under the rose bushes. It's clear that nearly 6-week old chicks can do something Paul & I didn't consider: fly....fly both far and high.

Hurray!! Within minutes, the two of them are back in the coup. I write a quick email to the neighborhood asking them to be on the lookout for Uno, the yellow-white one. So far, all that's come back is a note saying two chickens were taken from a different neighbor's yard by raccoons. Not encouraging, but we'll keep looking.

I do have to say, however, it is clear that these chickens are part of the family. After dropping off the kids at school, some mom friends were asking, with baited breath, about the chicken-saga. "These chickens have got to be in your holiday card photo this year," one mom ventured. I sort of have to believe that she is right!

We All Fall Down!

Ava decided this morning that she didn't want to take a bath today with Baby Brother. She wanted to do what Bettina got to do last time: take a shower. So, while I bathed Baby Brother, I delegated the shower routine to Daddy, who was about to jump in anyhow. Ava has this thing about not getting her ears or eyes wet, so I was concerned about how she'd take the shower, but her confidence and determination said it was time to give it a try.
From my perch upstairs, I could tell that the shower wasn't all that Ava thought it'd be. She started to complain as Daddy told her that her hair wasn't even wet enough to put in the shampoo. Then I hear more complaining, more screaming, and Daddy just trying to get it done. The scene escalates higher and higher until it sounds like the animalistic panic of pure survival. Then I hear a big crash...Uh, oh...time to investigate...and quickly.
I run down the stairs and find the whole shower curtain and rod on the floor, both Daddy and Ava on their backs on top of it. Daddy finally got the water turned off. The only thing left standing is Bettina, wondering what the heck just happened.
Apparently, Ava was so determined NOT to finish her shower that, when Daddy picked her up to go under the shower to wash her shampoo out, she kicked off the wall with such force, it sent both Daddy and she flying backwards out of the shower, taking the curtain and rod down with them.
I couldn't help myself....listening to the story, tears of laughter were streaming down my face. That's one determined kid!!! Thank goodness no one was hurt! I guess its only baths again for Ava.

Pete Mulvihill of Green Apple Books Recommends: Raising Chickens in San Francisco!!

AUGUST 11, 2009 | SAN FRANCISCO
Pete Mulvihill of Green Apple Recommends

Don't forget: the books mentioned below are available at 20% off for tablehopper readers for two weeks following this mention at Green Apple Books—simply use the code "tablehopper" at checkout (either at the store or online) for your discount.
If you're just looking for a book to read, this month's Bookworm column may not be of much help to you (though we have thousands, of course, at the store). But if you're thinking of keeping chickens, read on. (Are those crickets I hear?)
This spring, my wife and I shamelessly jumped on the "urban homestead" bandwagon. We were inspired by the usual factors: Michael Pollan, these thrifty times, neighbors who keep bees. We also wanted to show our city kids where food comes from. So when my wife's office (Sunset magazine) got chickens, we toyed with the idea of getting ourselves a few laying hens. We hemmed and hawed, not wanting any more responsibilities in life, but curious. Between Farm City and Sunset magazine's experiences, we realized just how easy it is to keep chickens. So in mid-April, we pulled the trigger and bought four chicks: two barred Plymouth Rocks and two Cuckoo Marans.
And we got The Joy of Keeping Chickens by Jennifer Megyesi ($14.95).
Each chick was five days old and, at $4.50 each at Half Moon Bay Feed and Fuel, seemed like a good deal for two–three years of eggs. Of course, we also bought about $100 worth of stuff: cage, heat lamp, waterer, and feed. While the chicks grew surprisingly quickly atop our dryer, we threw together a coop and run with recycled lumber from Builder's Resources for about $40, plus another $100 or so at hardware stores for plastic roofing, chicken wire, etc. At about eight weeks, the pullets moved outside.
While we waited for eggs, one chicken gradually showed his true colors: he was a little more aggressive, had a bigger comb, and eventually started the day (his last) with a pure "cock-a-doodle-doo." Once we realized we had a rooster on our hands, action had to be taken. So we consulted The Joy of Keeping Chickens (and YouTube), then we slaughtered, plucked, cooked and ate "Tillie." S/he made a nice pozole, albeit an expensive one. And while I would have preferred another laying hen to a hearty pozole, that process was ultimately a rewarding byproduct of our urban homesteading experiment.
And finally, last week, 22 weeks and $333 later, we got our first egg. And it was deliciously rich and rewarding. Even now, a week later, we're giddy when we open the little door to the laying box and find a light brown treat.
As for the book, it has everything you need and more—it even covers raising birds for meat, which is just not practical or cost-effective in San Francisco. It's well organized, clearly written, nicely put together, colorful, and very respectful, even loving.
FAQs: we sold our chick "starter kit" to another family for $50, so that reduced our costs. Plus, our picky-eater preschoolers provide many scraps for the chickens, and our local produce market saves trimmings from aging greens for the hens—both of these things keep our feed costs minimal.
You can leave your hens untended for days on end, so it's much easier than owning a cat or dog (though it's best to ask a neighbor to collect your eggs every day or so—since that task has its own reward, it should be pretty easy). In San Francisco, you can have up to four animals (e.g. if you have a dog, you can only have three chickens). No roosters. I have no idea about other cities.
Inspired? Feel free to email me or ask for me when you're in the store. Or see my wife's blog: with this link, you'll see the chicken entries only (in reverse chronological order, so start at the bottom).
Next month: a review of egg recipe books perhaps. Thanks for reading.

It Makes It ALL Worthwhile

As crazy and manic as my life gets, there is an occasional zinger that cuts me to the core and reminds me how much I have it made:
After cleaning the kitchen last night, I look down at my feet and scoop up a cute little boy with a pacifier in his mouth. "Wanna give me a kiss?" I ask him, looking at him eye-to-eye. He takes his pacifier out and puts his wet little mouth to my lips. I'm a bit surprised as I didn't think he'd know what I was saying. However, I'm so touched by this unexpected gesture of love, I squeeze him and say, "I love you!" With the pacifier back in his mouth, he says, "I wuv jui." My heart leaps. "Give me a hug, bug," I say. He opens his arms around my neck, lays his head on my shoulder and gives a bear squeeze. "My lord, he doesn't miss a thing. He knows exactly what's going on," I think. I hold him closer, squeeze him back and rock back and forth. I am amazed and so very thankful for this little gift and a transcendental moment that is now etched in the memory of my heart.

Breakdown of a Typical Busy Day

Wake up at 6:00am to baby's cries. Change baby's diaper and let him drink from his sippy cup so he can go back to sleep for another hour. Try to sleep again, but can't. Get out of bed. Do a couple loads of laundry. Get baby out of bed and changed into clothes. Make pancakes as girls come down the stairs. Clean up kitchen while everyone eats. Help girls get dressed and do their hair while making their beds. Put the girls' ballet/dance clothes in backpacks while searching for Baby's shoes and 2 more diapers for the bag. Throw some snacks in my purse. Out the door by 9:15 am. Meet friends at the door of the Academy of Sciences museum at 10am. Spend 2-hours with butterflies, fish, alligators and penguins. Help escort five kids to lunch room and divi-up lunch. Eat leftovers. Another hour in newly-discovered toddler play room (score!). Go back to car after saying bye to friends and drive to the East Bay. Drive past 3 new houses on the MLS that could have potential. Wonder why the newest one isn't open for Broker Tour day. Stop by child consignment shop to look at Halloween costumes. Deposit check into bank. Drive to ballet/jazz class. Chat with friend while girls dance. Admire how cute they are!! Pick up Grandma to run errands. Drive to mall. Return items at two different stores, fall in love with new western lines at Janie & Jack. Make mental note to check often for sales. Help Grandma buy new frying pan while managing children who have to touch everything. Eat dinner at Nordies. Look at and try on Christmas dresses (!?!) that Grandma wants to buy the girls. Drop Grandma back home. Try to make it to the bridge's toll plaza again before the 7pm carpool lane is over. Miss carpool lane by 30-seconds. Unload car. Give kids small snack and juice. Change everyone into pajamas, tidy room and get out ballet outfits for tomorrow's class while girls brush their teeth. Put baby to bed. Read two books to girls. Go outside to feed chickens and change water. Do another load of laundry. Go back upstairs to chastise girls for being too chatty and silly. Try to go through email. Go back and separate girls so they will settle down. Read email in the dark because one kid is now in my room. Put her back into her own bed 30-minutes later and rub her back for 15-minutes until she relaxes enough to sleep. Greet Daddy in a whisper-voice as he come home to see what eveyone is doing. Shushes Daddy who wants to wake everyone up since his late meeting made him miss "everything." Make lunches for tomorrow's school day. Fold 3-loads of laundry. It's now 11pm. (sigh!) Wish I had more time for fixing clothes, taking pictures of things to sell on eBay and to perhaps read a chapter from the new book lent by Grandma. Remember that lunch's leftovers are still in the car. Go out and retrieve them. Turn out all the lights. Watch sleeping husband passed out in front of TV. Leave the hall light on a bit for him. Change clothes. Get into bed (ahhhh!). Remember I'm hosting dinner for 3 high school friends tomorrow night. Panic. Contemplate getting out of bed to defrost something. Decide I'll deal with that issue "in the morning." (another deep sigh) Nighty-night!

09/11/2001

I WILL always remember...and I want my children to never forget. Let the media show the footage all day long on this day, every year!