FREE RANGING SO TO SPEAK!

Feral chickens are a common sight here in Montserrat. They roam freely in yards and the woods and on the beach. It didn’t take much for the hunter gatherer in me and the animal watcher in Stassi for us to think, “Let’s catch the chickens.” The idea went no where until another expatriate couple was leaving island returning to the States. They happened to have a trap which they happily left to us. And, the game was on.

One morning as we took a look at one of our vegetable gardens we saw that chickens had rousted about and torn up our little carrot plants. I was livid, demanding that something be done. With a look of resignation Stassi pulled out the trap and set it with a little tray of chicken feed which we’d bought when we first had the idea a couple of years ago. Who would have thought, but we had a chicken the very next morning. Of course we didn’t have any place to put it or any idea of what to do with it, but no problem. We called our gardener and asked if he would be willing to do the dirty deed and he was. We drove the chicken in the trap over to his house and with no little concern he reached into the trap and grabbed the poor thing by its feet. It screamed. Who would have thought a chicken would scream? I was almost in tears feeling like a murderer. But, I’ve eaten a lot of chicken in my life, haven’t you? We never heard back from the gardener and in fact we haven’t seen him since so who knows what happened to that first catch.

Undeterred, Stassi went to the north to buy chicken wire and took old pieces of wood and iron rods and other stuff and made the cutest little house for our next catch which came the next day. We had a couple of dry days and then got lucky. Now there were three. We took them this time to a local farmer/butcher. He himself had caught a lot of these chickens by spreading feed around and into a newly constructed chicken coop. Being a commercial farmer, he waited until he had a flock of thirty or so pecking away at the feed in the coop and then he closed the door. Smart!

The chickens were returned to us in a couple days and they were tender and delicious if a bit on the skinny side. Now we were getting serious. We watched a rerun of the old Fun with Dick and Jane with Jane Fonda and were ready to go to work. Stassi had scouted the neighborhood to find the chicken roost which turned out to be just a block or so away in a stretch of woods between houses. One morning we dropped off the trap and waited at home dreaming of the next chicken soup. Late that afternoon Stassi took a walk around the neighborhood and came home to wake me with the news. We’ve got one!

Half asleep with coffee cup in hand I backed the car out of the drive and we rode up to the trap. We assumed we were going to get away with this with no one the wiser, but that afternoon it seemed like everyone had come out of their houses and was milling about in full view of our nefarious activities. Stassi pulled up the hood, claiming radiator problems. I called out cheerfully, “Learning to drive.” When the coast seemed clear Stassi dropped the hood and ran into the woods covering the trap to quiet the bird. All was well until he put the trap down in the back of the car at which point the chicken started to scream. “Close the windows.” Of course the driver side window doesn’t really close. Then “Turn on the radio.” There we were, the radio blasting, the chicken screaming and me in hysterics trying to get into first gear. I really am learning to drive.

Well we got the chicken home and into the chicken coop and we call her Screamer. This morning we got a friend for her though we’re still waiting for the beautiful big rooster. Screamer and her friend have settled in nicely with a diet they could only have dreamed about. What is lovely is that when I go talk to them they cluck happily in response. Little do they know what the future holds in store, but then none of us do!

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