MABEL

        I think most of you know I have one chicken…Mabel. What you may not know is Mabel’s background. The woman, Gail, who cuts my hair wanted chickens and got three little chicks. They were so tiny, she kept them inside and even carried them around in her shirt to keep them warm. She named them Lucy, Ethel and Mabel.

Mabel

          The ladies had the run of her backyard once they grew up and trashed it with their scratching for bugs and worms. They had a little coop Gail’s mom purchased for her. It was very cute, but not really built for outside in the rainy northwest.

          This was all years ago when we were part of a book club. At one of the meetings, Gail was upset because she was going to have to get rid of her girls. Her husband hated the chickens because at first light, Mabel would crow. Then, a neighbor got into the mix and complained about that rooster crowing. The girls had to go.

          Without checking with John, I piped up and said I’d take them and give them a good home. Gail was elated. She could come the few blocks to my house to visit her girls. So, one nice day, Thor and John went to Gail’s and hauled the coop and the girls back to our place and established them in what we’d called the chicken yard for decades. It had previously been home to chickens, rabbits, ducks and one goose.

L-R, Lucy, Ethel, Mabel

          Gail was right, Mabel did crow. I took her to the feed store at Thrasher’s Corner and asked them if she really was a hen and not a rooster. The staff assured me I had a hen and that sometimes, a hen will crow for no apparent reason. After a time here, Mabel gave up crowing and began to cluck just like her chicken yard mates.

          Time passed and we loved the eggs they laid and made sure to give Gail a dozen now and then. Gail also came to visit her girls. Lucy and Ethel were always happy to be picked up and held…Mabel, not so much. We could never decide who was laying the eggs because we never got three on one day. There’d be one, maybe two, but never three.

Original Coop

          The little coop Gail had for the girls didn’t do well in the rain. John, AJ and Thor spent a weekend putting up a shed. John had the plastic material for the roof, but put up a blue tarp “temporarily.” It was years later when my handyman installed the plastic on the roof. Meanwhile the girls lived there and various largish tools were stored in there too. It had electricity, i.e., a long cord that goes from the garage to the shed. Initially, John put part of the old coop inside to make the girls feel at home. When that began to fail, John installed some nest boxes and a part of a cupboard with a railing for them to roost on.

Father & Sons abuilding

          Time went by and John’s exercise for the day was usually going to the chicken yard to let “his” girls out and then again at night to close the door to keep them safe. One evening, Ethel was missing. She couldn’t be found anywhere. She was just gone. No evidence of a hawk or an owl or eagle, no loose feathers floating around. It was like she’d moved into another dimension. It was at that point we came to the conclusion that Mabel didn’t give us eggs. Now, we only got one every other day.  

          One morning John went to let his girls out and found Lucy on the floor of the shed, dead. He was very sad and took issue with my saying I’d put her in a plastic bag and into the garbage. Nope, she was a family pet, she had to go underneath the apple tree. That’s where Lucy is today.

          So, Mabel was left alone. She didn’t really seem to mind since she was given the run of the entire garden. How much damage can one chicken actually do? Not too much, so I don’t have a problem with her roaming around. Back when I was having the rat problem, I began to fasten the gate to the chicken yard. That meant I had to pick Mabel up and carry her out. Then, in the evening, I’d open the gate and have to either carry her in to her house or wave a broom around to get her to go there on her own.

          Then, Haley began spending a bit more time here and wanted to hold Mabel. So, she did. Well, between my carrying Mabel in and out of her shed and Haley holding and stroking her, she’s become a very needy chicken. I go work in the garden and she’s right there beside me. When I move to the next patch, she scratches through the loose dirt and follows me. This isn’t a problem, but Mabel has become a challenge in another way.

Almost Finished Coop/Shed

          Mabel thinks she should be allowed in the garage and even in the house. A couple of weeks ago, I went looking for her so I could keep her safe from the racoons and coyotes. I couldn’t find her anywhere. I looked all over and clucked and bock-bocked to no avail. Then, ready to give up, there she was, sitting absolutely still on the table in the garage. Who knows how many times I looked right at her without seeing her.

          Then, she began coming into the laundry room and nesting right against the door to the dining room. I almost stepped on her several times. Earlier this week, I left that door ajar so the dogs could come and go. I was on the phone and got up to close the sliding glass door which had the screen in place. Who was nesting on the carpet in front of the slider…Mabel. She’d come in through the garage and laundry room and made her way into the living room.

          Now, the thing is, I wouldn’t care if Mabel became a house chicken except she poops and it’s disgusting. It is bad enough in the filthy garage, but the laundry room and entire house is completely off limits. I’ve begun trying to keep the back-garage door closed during the day so she’ll stay in the yard, but sometimes I forget. If that door is closed, Mabel goes to the deck and huddles against the sliding glass door…like I’m going to take pity on her and say, “C’mon in.”

          Wednesday was one of the days I forgot to close the back-garage door. At dusk, I went out to lock Mabel in. I’d left the gate to the chicken yard open so she could access her house. No Mabel in there. So, I figured I’d just wait until it was completely dark and then close the shed door. At 10:00 pm, I went with my trusty flashlight to close her door. Still no Mabel. Where could she be?

          So, I wandered the garden, deck and looked all over. No Mabel. I took another turn through the garage and was giving up when I went to the back side of the big table full of tools. This time Mabel had maneuvered herself into a tiny space between two boxes. She just nested there and looked at me like, “So, what are you going to do now?”

          I gave up, closed the back-garage door so nothing could get inside, and went to bed. This morning, Mabel had come out from her tiny hiding place and was under the table waiting for me to open the garage door. I did so, the dogs ran out and I escorted Mabel outside by waving my bathrobe at her.

          Looking out my window just now, I couldn’t see her anywhere, so I got up and went outside. I traversed the yard, checked her house and her yard and looked in all the places I thought she might hide…no Mabel. She sure is good at hiding.