I Once Loved a Chicken Named Larry Bird

One day in September 2020, a little black chicken wandered into our yard. We had no idea from where she came.  We all thought that it was pretty neat that a chicken was in the yard - but we didn't think that she would stay very long.  As night fell, we noticed that the chicken was roosting in one of trees on the other side of the driveway.  When we woke up the next morning the chicken was pecking around the driveway.  We were stunned that she was still hanging around. 

What made her continued presence all the more puzzling was the fact that she didn't seem to mind that she was constantly having to dodge certain death.  Meg, the cat that catches everything that moves (snakes, moles, birds), was always just a few feet behind ready to pounce on the chicken.  At first we kept Meg locked in the house until we could find the chicken's owner.  We wanted to return the chicken to the own alive instead of in a stew.  Much to both our surprise and her own, Meg could not catch that chicken.  In so far as a cat can express utter frustration, Meg certainly did. She would look at me as if to say "help me catch that blasted chicken."  No matter what angle she took, the chicken would easily side-step her advances.  After a couple of weeks, she gave up and would lay on the ground near the chicken and watch - tail a-swinging.  She never tried again.  They later became reluctant roommates. 

We did finally track down the chicken's rightful owner.  She lived up the hill and through the woods.  After leaving word with her nephew of her wayward chicken, she came over the house.  She took one look at the chicken and said, "yep, that's my chicken."  After a futile attempt to catch it, she said, "if you ever catch her, bring her back up to the house and put her the coop."  Then she left, never to be heard from again.  Michael and I were dumbfounded.  Realizing that I had a new pet, I gave the chicken a name - Larry, Larry Bird.   

Larry quickly became a great love of mine.  I found myself spending time just sitting outside with  her.  She wouldn't let me touch her, but she would sit close to me.  After a few weeks, she would eat seed out of my hand. If I couldn't find her I would walk around the yard calling for her until I heard her chicken noises.  Typically, she would come walking out of the woods at the sound of my voice. She would also follow me to the mailbox.  Watching her run behind me made me laugh every time. 

I knew that our relationship was progressing when she stopped roosting in the tree on the other side of the driveway and moved to the tree next to my bathroom window.  One time whilst bathing, I look out to see the two orange eyes staring in at me and swaying back and forth.  You see Larry was too heavy for the limb.  She would fly onto the branch and for a  few minutes the entire tree would sway back and forth under her weight.  But once the tree steadied, Larry would spend her time looking into the house.  It scared me to death at first, but after the shock wore off I found it very endearing. 

After about a month of chasing, feeding, sneaking, luring and wooing, I finally caught Larry.  Ultimately her vanity was her undoing. I caught her while she was staring at herself in the full length mirror under the squat rack in the garage.  I'm not sure how, but she discovered herself in the mirror and must have been completely overcome by her own beauty.  I was able to grab her before she knew what happened.  I can't say she was happy, but she didn't fight me.  After that initial grab I was able pick up her pretty easily.  I would pet her head and neck and for the most part she let me. 









Then one day, the weather grew cold and it as time for Larry to return to the safety of his chicken coop for the winter.  I said my tearful goodbyes to Larry Bird and Michael and I returned her to her rightful owner.  Admittedly, it was hard for me.  I loved that chicken. 

The next day my friend Elena sent me a text message and told me to look on my front porch.  It was a sweet reminder of the strangest pet that I ever loved.