This is a story about my bud Tom's hen. Tom's in his early 50's and lives in a little New England town. We work together in a machine shop. I've gotten to know Tom pretty well, and it's safe to describe him as "old-time tough". He's quiet, but he is very self-sufficient and can fix ANYTHING. He is an avid outdoorsman who loves to hunt, fish, and ride any recreational vehicle. He's also a gentleman farmer and has an 18th century farm with two horses, three dogs, and three rabbits. He keeps all these critters SUPPOSEDLY for when his daughter visits..... but you can tell he loves them himself! Tom has another friend who runs a small garage. He had a car up on the lift and heard some odd rattling sounds, coming from the driveshaft tunnel. Then he thought he heard peeping. Next thing you know, he looked up and saw two yellow eyes looking down at him! There was a very frightened black pullet tucked between the driveshaft tunnel and the catalytic converter heat shield. He caught a terrible smell of burning, and when he lifted her down, her tail feathers had all been burned away, and her backside was fiery red (probably from the converter). The guys were dumfounded. Between the two of them, they puzzled out that someone must have been raising chickens, this one escaped then wandered into the road, and he ran her over without actually hitting her. She got scooped up into the car's undercarriage and carried God knows how many miles to the garage. The car's owner doesn't keep chickens, and couldn't recall going by anywhere where they did keep them. There was no question of returning her... so they BOTH figured on Tom! He'd kept hens in the past, but hadn't done so for awhile. He agreed to take her "temporarily". It's been seven weeks, and she's almost fully healed. She has become very social, and loves attention from Tom. It's amusing to see her run to him. She likes the bunny rabbits and even the horses, and the dogs (already used to hens) know that she's not to be eaten or harassed. She roosts with the bunnies, who like to curl up with her. Her plumage has come in deep black with broken white barring; it's very soft too. She has a very small red comb- Dominique?? He just calls her "Chicken", probably from having read "My Fine Feathered Friend" by William Grimes. So Tom is keeping her "For my daughter!" but everyone pretty much knows he's attached to her. Definitely one of the most lucky hens in the world!