We had chickens when I was very little. I vaguely recall looking for eggs in the big dusty chicken house. But, I don’t actually remember the hens or the mean rooster Mogie tells me we had. Our neighbor’s dogs killed them all. After that Brownie appeared on the scene and since she was completely unable to resist the temptation of a feathery squawking meal we never got any more chickens. 

 

So, this is the first time since I was probably 6 or 7 that I have had any real contact with chickens. This summer my mom has purchased approximately 30 members of the poultry family. She bought them in two different flocks, a red flock and a white flock. They, like all other animals in Moldova, seem to be constantly hungry. 

 

We have probably 15 smallish reddish chickens. They were cute as chicks but now they have grown up and revealed their true nature as relatives of predatory dinosaurs. They refuse to stay in the little bit of side garden where my mom put them, flying over the fence whenever the kitchen door opens. They rarely seem to walk. Instead they run from one idea of food to another. They gather around the kittens and snatch the food from their very paws. Sharick (our dog) succeeded in completely de-tailing one of the hens when she got too close to a bone he was gnawing. It doesn’t help anything that they seem to view my bright pink toenails as a new and exciting appetizer. When I see them running after me, necks pumping, legs scuttling, I see raptors darting across the savannah intent on taking down their prey in a frenzied group effort.  

 

In other animal news: We now have a second kitten! He is nameless so far. I have been wanting my mom to name him as she deemed “Sloopy” a not very “framous” (beautiful) name. But, she doesn’t seem too interested in naming him so I may have to take it in hand. Whereas Sloopy has the appearance of one of those Egyptian cat statues, skinny body, big slanty eyes, and huge ears, this new kitten looks like a he could be the star of a kitten calendar. He is fluffy grey with grey eyes. He’s also a bit bigger and healthier looking than poor Sloopy who continues to look like street urchin. The nameless kitten had been camping out with his mother and siblings on our roof but the mom was accused of killing the neighbor’s chickens. (More power to her if she was willing the brave the raptors is what I say.) But the chickens’ owners were not so sympathetic and so the family was split up. From what I could gather from my mom the mother was killed and the other two kittens taken to the piata. I found our kitten stuck with the chickens. I was afraid to even mention him to my mom but when I returned from my long weekend in Chisinau he was playing with Sloopy in the driveway.

 

I bought some flea medicine for Sloopy the other day. I was surprised when I walked into the dusty veterinary store to see a poster with a picture of the KY Derby on it. I was so excited about the poster, which was advertising some sort of horse medicine from Nicholasville that I insisted on talking about it to the man who sold me the medicine. 

 

Quote of the Day: (I always knew we would have gotten along well!)

I don't give a damn for a man that can only spell a word one way.- Mark Twain