Life and Lols with Lulu (in case you need a smile)

[drumstick diva]

Lovely story

 

[Aristocat123]

This March I suggested to my husband that we take our then 6 month old son to the feed store to see the baby chicks. My husband found a hurt GLW with a broken foot that *had* to come home with us, along with three other tiny fluffs for warmth and companionship. The GLW was in very bad shape and passed away that night.

The other three, a Silkie cockerel with an attitude, a chatty Welsummer pullet missing any sort of chicken expletive filter, and a thoughtful, laid back Buff Orpington pullet I named Lulu - thrived despite our complete ignorance about poultry. They lived in a cat carrier for the first few days with us, complete with repurposed desk lamp.

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They graduated to a ginormous rubbermaid type tote a few days later, outfitted with a real heat lamp. I had done much Reading of the Internet, and decided to try my hand at fermenting feed.

My first offering of successfully fermented feed was rejected by the fluffs, who regarded the new dish with distrust...until gloriously determined Lulu picked up her fluffy skirts and investigated. She nibbled a little. Thought about it. Nibbled a bit more, and without fanfare climbed completely into the dish and happily began eating her way out. Incidentally, that goofball habitually stood in the fermented feed every day henceforth until she physically didn't fit anymore.

Lulu loved being held from the beginning. She'd preen and doze off in my hand or on my lap, sometimes she'd just sort of slump over in a ball of golden fluff.

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The chicks grew fast, and soon it was warm enough for them to sleep outside. I was terrified of predators, and put it off as long as my husband would let me. His compromise with me involved a little enclosed chicken yard and coop just outside the bedroom window for our six growing babies (Chicken math is absolutely real!)

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We'd noticed that the others picked on Lu a bit in the brooder box, and by the time they moved outside, Lu had made up her mind that she didn't need approval or support from The Mean Girls to live her life. She just did her own thing.

Lu still loved hanging out with me, and was very curious about my tiny, featherless, loud baby. If he was asleep, she began cuddling up next to him.

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When we'd let the birds out for supervised free ranging, Lulu would amble around a bit, but frequently checked on what our son was doing. She even volunteered for a little road trip, and dozed off in my lap, face pressed into my son's carseat!

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We bought our first house in June, a little fixer upper on almost three quarters of an acre. The giant backyard was fenced and full of opportunities to create a paradise for humans and animals alike. We installed a 5x8 coop and fenced in a big bird yard, which we dumped several tons of sand into to prevent mud. The dust bathing was glorious.

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Lulu and the tiny cockerel began clashing with increasing intensity. His adolescent outlook was that all the girls needed to stay together all of the time. Lu didn't want to. She wanted to do her own thing. I hated seeing her stressed and miserable...so I began bringing her in the house while we were working on stuff...and Lu promptly discovered the joys of air conditioning and ceiling fans. She decided she very much enjoyed leaving the politics and social demands of Coop Life behind for a bit each day, and pampered herself with comfort.

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The clashes between the cockerel and Lu got intense enough that I physically separated them whenever we weren't on hand. She didn't hate him, just resented his determination to stifle her individuality. She would even dust bathe with him.

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As Lu got older, so did our son. He got more mobile and became a host of unpredictable sounds and movement. Lu found him irresistible, and if she wasn't following him around, he was following her around. She was completely unphased by his crazy baby drama, and his loud baby toys.

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She finds his crumbs and snack offerings utterly without equal. She can differentiate the subtle sound difference in the crinkle of packaging, and will forfeit every shred of dignity she has to gallop over hard wood floors like a drunk golden retriever in a chicken suit if she hears the freeze dried fruit and veggie package. She learned how to eat out of a baby food pouch (and showed the others). She is a shameless thief of teething biscuit pieces, and comes running when she hears the fridge open (which is nuts, because she's not fed from the fridge, but I guess she sees us eat food we take from it). But she loves being with him even more than she loves food.

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So knowing my girl, I wasn't shocked to hear her knocking on the back door a few days ago, asking to come in out of the heat. She seemed restless, and I wondered if she wanted to try to lay an egg. She snuggled up against my leg, and fluffed and fluffed the blanket on the couch. Our son screeching and laughing and babbling didn't bother her at all, but my middle aged blind dog made her nervous. She jumped off the couch and headed to the spare bedroom, ducked into the closet, and laid her very first egg. I'm still not sure whether she was more proud of the egg, or the fact that she laid it with the Divine comfort of central air!

Last night I went out to check on the birds before bed, and found a very fluffy, and very content buff orpington preening herself at the top of the ramp into the enclosed chicken tractor that the girls sleep in at night. Perhaps the nearly full moon enticed her out, or the soft late summer breezes. Maybe her inner golden goddess of chickendom beckoned her into the doorway away from her comfy roost to simply enjoy a perfect evening.

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I love this crazy chicken! She may be half blind (her poor depth perception is what led to being picked on so much in the brooder), but her heart is absolutely huge. She's sweet, brilliant, opinionated, independent, and hilarious. She comes running when I carry the baby outside to check on them while they're free ranging. She has a special tone of voice she only uses to speak to my son...she's simply amazing to me.

I know many others have incredible girls too, and that this post is waaaaay too long. I just wanted to put my profound appreciation of this remarkable young raptor out there in the universe.

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This story makes me warm and fuzzy inside. Love it.

 

[WickedChicksNH]

what a sweet story, I loved all the pics. Makes me want to cuddle with her

 

[townchicks]

Love it.

 

[Pickled Plaid]

Since Lu's antics are ongoing, and so many have enjoyed hearing about my silly girl, I feel like it wouldn't be unwelcome to add to the story as more laughs come up...(thank you all so much for your kind words and encouragement, by the way!!! My husband tolerates her, but doesn't quite have the same appreciation as others who utterly love their birds do!)

Last night after supper, Lu was still hanging out in the house. I'd tried setting her on the back stoop, because she loves doing Chicken Things and hunting for bugs before bed in the cooler weather while the sun sets. However, last night Lu did an about face and zipped back inside before I could close the door!

I was a bit confused by her unusual behavior until I realized that I'd tried to let her back outside while the baby still had snacks, lol!

He was working on a few grape halves, and being both newly one year old, and utterly devoted to Lu, he's neither a tidy eater nor too worried about dropping food on the floor.

Welp. He dropped a grape and it wobbled under the coffee table. Lu zoomed after it, diving under the table, and promptly wedging herself snugly into a sticky position. I couldn't grab my phone fast enough to snap a picture, but I'll do my best to narrate the rapid unfolding of events and body language.

Phase 1: The frenzy of excitement to get to the unknown dropped food before anyone else could (we must, of course, completely overlook the fact that nobody else wanted it) no matter the cost to dignity.

Phase 2: The unbridled joy of victoriously snatching a High Value Baby Snack away from everyone else, complete with high and excited tailfeathers, and happy, muffled burbles.

Phase 3: The thoughtful pecking at said HVBS, and finding it unexpectedly cold and oddly sticky. Followed by an enthusiastic gulp as she swallowed it without further investigation.

Phase 4: The subtle droop of tail feathers as the realization of physical confinement sunk through the adrenaline of victory.

Phase 5: A quick embarrassed sigh, (mentally, I heard Pooh's voice mutter "oh, bother") followed by a spreading of tail feathers as she gracelessly shoved herself backwards at an impressive rate of speed.

Phase 6: A quick fluffing of feathers enroute to her worried check around the baby to ensure she didn't miss any edibles while she was indisposed, followed by a tactical puddling roost on the floor so as to be perfectly positioned for another Dash to Glory, should the opportunity present itself. She made sure to softly coo and burble words of encouragement to the baby to test gravity again - for science.

I swear this bird has the heart and soul of a golden retriever....or Pooh bear. Never ever have I encountered any variety of bird so unruffled by situations that a normal bird would justifiably freak out when finding themselves in trouble. Lulu is the anti-flighty chicken.

Since I failed to capture this Lulu Moment on camera, please enjoy this conciliatory picture of Christopher and Lu checking on the lone baby plum tree that survived the floods and drought that plagued Oklahoma this year:



Along with a screenshot of a bemused Lu watching her little buddy try to groove along to a crazy chicken song my husband stumbled across :



Have a beautiful Saturday

 

[chrissynemetz]

I'm in love with this chicken!!
Keep posting and we'll keep watching

 

[Pickled Plaid]

I'm in love with this chicken!!
Keep posting and we'll keep watching

Awww, thank you so much! I think she's pretty amazing, and I love sharing her adventures!

 

[drumstick diva]

Your story would make a great children's book, that even parent's would read "just because" it is a good story.

 

[Pickled Plaid]

I'm blushing so hard right now. I just wanted to put Lulu's amazing personality and interactions with our son out there, in case someone needed something to smile about. Thank you so very much for your kind words!

 

[Pickled Plaid]

I finally found a picture of baby Lu, proud as punch, sitting in her fermented feed!

I lost a number of pictures when I transferred everything to the new phone. Her lavender Orpington sister, Hyacinth (after the very eccentric, socially driven, and loud main character from the BBC Keeping Up Appearances series - which was an absolutely perfect name for her), is on the left side of the dish trying to figure out what all the kerfuffle is about. Lu has always adored the splash and squish and general mess of fermented feed. Almost like a little kid experiencing mud between their bare toes, except she could eat it too! She would single handedly whip the others into a frenzy when she heard the screw cap on my fermenting Mason jars.



How can one tiny fluff have such a vivid personality and such obvious body language that even complete chicken noobs understood her?





Also in the misplaced pictures, was a little gem of the adolescent fluffs hunkering down in the hallway, during a very scary tornado warning this spring. There were all kinds of big hail stones, flooding rains, and several tornadoes that touched down within a few miles of us - thankfully not doing any damage. But I couldn't bear the thought of my chickens out in such weather, and thankfully my husband agreed. So, we brought their brooder box out of storage.

The craziness of the weather had everyone (except Lu), upset. She began preening in an over exaggerated way, pausing to make brief little soothing clucks at the others, trying to distract them from their worries and get them preening and relaxed. It worked a treat, and everyone was soon hanging out like it was a slumber party!



Lol, and I've got to share that my son's currently asleep across my chest while I'm sprawled across the couch. Lu asked to come in out of the heat earlier, and has been making rounds.

She keeps pacing past Christopher, looking at him very intently (he sleeps like a rag doll), looking at me with the chicken equivalent of a brow furrowed in worry, then tilting her head back and forth looking at the baby, muttering under her breath about my negligent parenting and stalking off, only to return shortly, quietly murmur to her buddy, and shoot me a dirty look. She has judged my ability to parent while my obviously fragile, featherless chick sleeps - and found me lacking.

I absolutely adore this feisty little girl!