Oh dear! I really wish I wasn't having to write this but ... my beautiful, feisty Monica has left the 'estate'. For those of you who are not familiar with the Menagerie that shares my home, Monica is a battery hen who was unceremoniously stuffed in to an air conditioning unit along with some of her 'sisters' by a Year 11 student anxious to leave his mark on the last day of term in May 2010.
When I first met her and two others, Martina and Merkle, I was not hopeful of her survival. Everything about her from the half plucked feathers showing bald patches, to her limp, almost white comb, the botched debeaking, to the strange ring around her irises told me she would not last 48 hours. It took a month for me to help the Three Ms regain their condition and beautiful buff and blond feathers returned to cover their skins. I brushed their feathers gently to release ; they scratted in the garden, in the daylight - soaking up vitamin D, for the first time in their lives. They feasted on the best mixed grain I could get which I dressed with olive oil and I made them vegetable mash from peelings and leftovers.
Monica did survive beyond my predicted two days: She was the first one to discover she could fly; she taught the others how to escape from Peckingham Palace - she really did! I watched her do it!!!! When she did return to condition she was fearless. The dog snapped at her when she tried to steal her food: Monica's reaction was a simple shake of her feathers - beak held high as she walked away and I swear she would have said 'what-ev-va' if she could have spoken. Martina and Merkle were less ballsy and made way, not only for the dog, but also for the cats.
Time came when Martina and Merkle made like truculent teenagers. You know the ones: those who get everything they need (and more!), wear designer clothes cos otherwise the wail of 'But Muuuuummmmm ! Every one's wearing Addynickeysports stuff' would echo through your head, your house, the shopping mall...... but moan to their peer group that their parent is a) sooooooooooooo like not cool; b) doesn't understand what it is like to be (insert age) c) NEVER gets me what I want. As soon as Martina and Merkle were returned to condition and all three had started to lay eggs, they packed their spotted handkerchiefs and toddled off across the fields. I searched everywhere for them and, heart in my mouth, came across a large buffy browney thing... I used my walking stick to push the grass aside and was stunned to find THE biggest fungus I had ever seen. There was no evidence of any attack by Mr Fox so I am pretty sure they ended up on someone else's plot. A few days later, driving towards the next village, I spotted a pair of Hampshire type hens on the roadside just in front of a farmhouse...
And that left Monica: Oh! Monica what WILL I miss about you? I will miss your 'hen with attitude coming by - step aside' attitude: I will miss those special occasions such as when you allowed my Pixie Princess to kiss you on your beak; when you permitted My Bestest Boy Ben to brush you and you fed from his hand - he was almost overcome with emotion. I have some wonderful pictures of you in my head: you sitting on my lap and the girl cat backing away as you insisted this WAS your rightful place and she could go hang; The first time you flew up onto the kitchen table followed by several episodes with me pretending to unwitting guests, as they fought to protect their cakes and cups of tea from your thieving beak, that 'Oh! My Goodness: that's the FIRST time she's done that!' ; my hunk of a son backing away barefooted to escape your attentions to his feet; the look on the faces of the two Jehovah's Witnesses as they came to the gate to convert me but spotted you in the doorway and changed their minds; you tolerating Coco's persistent examination of your back end; you attracting the attentions of the gorgeous church bell mender meaning he spent 15 minutes talking with this mad old bat. You laid an egg in the clothing waiting to be washed; my daughter-in-law is convinced you were saving me the effort of going out into the cold to collect your gift.
Oh! there are so many occasions when you made me laugh out loud, made me smile and drove me mad too! My friends accepted that you were my pet chicken and made allowances for any little messages you left behind (I was so pleased I had hard floor coverings!), you stole food from the dog, the cats and from me. You knocked on the door to be let in. You peered at me eye to eye through the Hive window when I tarried too long letting you in. Once you had inspected the entire ground floor, stolen what food there was, cleared up any leftovers I had not disposed of you would settle under my desk, hide your head in your lovely feathers and go to sleep and yes Monica, you did snore. You also purred and talked and you listened too. You drove my friends and relatives mad when they were on the telephone to me because you would insist on telling us all about your day, very, very loudly. Some nights you refused point blank to leave the house so I let you roost in my office not having the heart to put you out - one night you actually snuck up the stairs and roosted in my bedroom and by the time I realised you were there it was too late!
Those are the pictures of you I want to keep in my head and my heart: the feathers scattered around suggest that you put up a good fight with whatever it was that took you: I cannot bear to consider what actually happened to you but I am grateful I do not have your corpse to dispose of - darling Monica I am so sorry you have gone, we are all going to miss you. Farewell my Feathered Fiend and thanks for all the eggs!
Love and Peace
THE sad Purple Fairy xxx
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