Amelia thinks she is meant to roam the world. When Amelia was younger, she would often hide out when it was time for the day to end and for all good hens to go back to the barn to have a little treat, have a little drink, and have a little rest on the roost. I would search for Amelia, usually in vain, for an hour or more and finally give up and hope that Big Bob (the most evil vile rapscallion raccoon I have ever run across in all my years) did not find and eat her as his supper during the night.
Just last week on 3/29/2013, my Dad was here helping with the bathroom remodel, and Amelia jumped into his pick-up tailgate and rode all the way back to his house (several miles away). He didn’t even know it. The tailgate was DOWN. My mother – who I must insert here is NOT an animal lover and most definitely NOT a chicken lover – discovered Amelia when she got home from work. Amelia was making herself quite a home in my mother’s spotless garage. ***Please note – you can eat off any of my mother’s floors, including the garage!!!*** My mother was NOT amused. Dad caught Amelia and brought her back to my little barn that night. He said when he opened the tailgate to get her out here at home, she looked up at him like he was spoiling all her fun (much the same look as you see in her picture above).
This evening, I went out with a pail of chicken scratch grains and a little sweet feed (for the goats), and I called everybody to the barn. They all ran up, willy nilly, happy to be going home to bed and to get a little treat first. I counted the little pullets (4 – there), the little ducklings (5 – there), the goats (2 – obviously there as they were trying to knock the pail out of my hand all through the yard), and the roosters and hens (6 – wait….counting again….6 – darn it! hold still!….counting again…..STILL 6 – 2 are missing!!!).
He was crowing and cooing and kept sticking his head into the brush along the fence line. I knew he was after a hen, and I knew the only hen missing was – OF COURSE! – Amelia! I had to look all through the brush, here and there, there and here, but eventually, I found this and knew it was her.
A few minutes of digging through the brush, scratching my hands to pieces (no gloves – remember, this was just a simple tucking in for the night originally), getting pecked a couple of times because Amelia did NOT want to get out of the brush, and finally I had her. She was not amused. She did, however, get put into the barn, and The Stalker joined her willingly, hoping for a little love from his Traveling Queen.