Unusual Chickens for the Exceptional Poultry Farmer by Kelly Jones Read Free Book Online Page A

see Henrietta anywhere. The door was shut, but I wrenched it open and looked inside. Henrietta was there, glaring at me. I shut the door and latched it again, and just about sat down right there in the dirt and chicken poop, I was so relieved. Henrietta is one smart chicken.
    But what had made that sound?
    As I looked around, a cloud of crows flew over me, straight for the woods in back of the barn, cawing their heads off. They swooped and flew around a big fir tree, diving at something in the branches.
    Well, I’ve never seen it myself before, but I knew what that meant. Something they thought was bad news was in that tree.
    I started toward the tree, but I stopped short as soon as I came around the corner of the barn, and flattened myself to the wall. Ms. Griegson’s orange pickup was parked on the old dirt road at the base of the fir tree. Standing next to it, looking up into the branches, was Ms. Griegson.
    I don’t think she saw me. I took a deep breath and thought for a moment. I was scared, and I was mad, and I wanted her to leave my farm and my chicken alone. But I also wanted to know what she was doing there.
    So I stayed where I was and watched the fir tree and Ms. Griegson. There was a big dark shape huddled on a branch, with crows swooping around it. It hopped to a lower branch, and turned to avoid another crow, and I saw it was mottled brown, with reddish tail feathers. I knew that bird from my chicken book. It was a predator, all right: a red-tailed hawk, right here on my farm, just a short ways from my chicken.
    Henrietta was safe in her house, I reminded myself, but I didn’t feel better. My stomach turned over and over as I looked from the hawk to Ms. Griegson and back. And then Ms. Griegson gave a sharp whistle, and the hawk looked at her too, just as she threw a handful of something on the ground.
    The hawk tipped its head to look, just like a chicken. It jumped down off the branch and landed at her feet. A crow swooped down over it, but Ms. Griegson waved it away, and it went back up in the fir with the other crows. The hawk pecked at the ground, and as I watched, it started to change from being all bent over and hooked and sleek to a dark-red chubby chicken, with a huge red comb and a pointy chicken beak and a fluffy chicken butt. It stopped for a minute and crowed, just like in “Old MacDonald,” so I guess it was a rooster.
    The crows went quiet. Ms. Griegson watched the chicken scratch around for a few minutes. Then she grabbed the dog crate out of the back of her truck and threw another handful inside.
    The rooster ran inside the crate, chortling happily. Ms. Griegson shut the door and put the crate back in her truck. She stood and looked around for a minute, and I held my breath in the shadow behind the barn, and was glad I was wearing a brown shirt and muddy jeans. Then she got in the truck and drove off.
    I ran right back to check on Henrietta. She was still in the henhouse, and she seemed fine. I left her there.
    I know there are unusual chickens now. But I didn’t know there were chickens that turned into hawks. My stomach hurts just thinking about it. And what kind of farmer keeps a chicken that turns into a hawk? And drives it around to other people’s farms?
    I’m scared of that hawk. I’m really scared of Ms. Griegson. But don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I won’t try my hardest to keep Henrietta safe.
    Love,
Sophie
    PS I followed her truck’s tire tracks out to the road and shut the gate tight. I don’t know if Dad left it open or if she just opened it herself and drove right in.
    PPS It was cracked corn she threw. I checked.

June 18, 2014 (later)
    Agnes
    Redwood Farm Supply
    Gravenstein, CA 95472
    Dear Agnes,
    Did you sell a rooster that turns into a red-tailed hawk to Ms. Griegson on purpose? If so, I think that was a bad idea. She brought it to my farm today. When it turned into a chicken, it looked like a Rhode Island Red. I don’t know what she was doing here, but she