My grandparents who lived in Castle Hill Maine always had chickens. I loooked forward to going to my grandparents house; I was always excited about the possibility of seeing a new clutch of baby chicks.

All of us kids knew we were not to go near the mother hens and their chicks while visiting my grandparents, but adults do tend to take their eyes off kids from time to time, and all kids have a built in detector, which signals to them when it is safe to be nauty boys and girls.

When we went to my grandparents farm in the spring and summer I knew there would be baby chicks, sometimes you just had to know where to look for them. There would be times when the mother hens would raise their chicks in the woods and other times they would raise them in a spot where even a four year old would think to look.

One day while at my grandparents house I was warned to stay away from any chicks I might come across. I made my promise, but what is a promise to a four-year-old? As soon as I knew the adults were deep in conversation, I made my move.

I started wandering around the farm looking for baby chicks. I walked down towards the vegetable garden. I knew all I had to do was find something the mother hen could hide in or under with her chicks. As i got closer to the garden I spoted an old mailbox . Even though the mailbox was huge it was still almost completely hiden by the tall grass.

I was very careful as I approached the mailbox. I looked back towards the house several times to make sure no one was watching me. I crouched down in the deep grass and made my way slowly towards the mailbox. I knew I had to disturb the grass as little as possible, because if someone looked down towards the garden and saw the grass moving they might think a fox was after the chickens and come out with a gun.

I made it to the mailbox. I got on my hands and knees to look inside the mailbox. A banty hen ruffled her feathers and sort of growled at me. She lurched forward like she was going to attack me, but it was only a mock attack.

There was a tree branch on the ground beside the mailbox. I picked it up and reached into the home, which was a safe place for the hen and her babies until I showed up. I moved the hen over with the branch. I was so happy, she had several little fuzzy babies of all different colors. I wanted to hold one so bad but the fierce little hen would not allow me to reach in and pick up one of her babies.

I was still on my hands and knees looking in the mailbox trying to figure out how I was going to get at least one baby chick out to hold when I heard my grandmother calling for Tina.

Oh no, if my grandmother saw me near the mailbox she would be mad at me. I could not run away from the the mailbox because she would see me. I needed to do something fast before she saw me. I had no choice, I had to get into the mailbox with the banty and her chicks.

While on my hands and knees I turned my body so my rear was at entrance to the mailbox. I slowly started backing myself in. I could hear the hen growling. I knew this could get painful for me, but I was willing to take my chances. When I was all the was in I closed the door just enough to hide me but open enough so I could see my grandmother.

As my mother got closer I prayed she wouldn't look at the mailbox and wonder why the door was closed. What would I do if she noticed and walked over to investigate? Luck was with me; my grandmother walked right by. She was calling for Tina. My grandmother walked into the outhouse. I heard her say in a loud shocked voice, "TINA MAY, HOW DID YOU GET DOWN IN THERE, AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

My grandmother called to everyone to come see where she had found Tina. Everyone ran to the outhouse. I watched from the mailbox as everone gathered at the outhouse.

In the meantime I was being pecked on the legs over and over again by the vicious banty whos home I had invaded. Each time she pecked my legs I would shriek in pain. I felt like I was being jabbed by thorns.I knew without looking that she had drawn blood a couple of times. I couldn't feel blood running down my leg but the pecks hurt to much for there not to be blood.

Finally I had enough of the torture and decided it was time to make my departure while everyones attention was focused on whatever Tina was doing in the outhouse.

I threw the mailbox door open and crawled out as fast as I could. I stood up and started running. I could hear the banty chasing after me. I screamed as I ran towards the outhouse.I had learned in the past that if you fall while a mad mother hen is after you, you're at her mercy.

I hadn't been caught in the mailbox, but everyone knew what I had been up too! Not to hard to figure out what a kid was up to when a banty was on his heels with its feathers all ruffled. The banty finally gave up her chase, she turned and went back to her mailbox home and her chicks.

When I reached the group which had gathered at the outhouse, my mother scolded me for bothering the chickens again. I was hoping Grammy would not be to mad at me for harrassing her chickens. It seemed she was not to interested in me at the moment.

As it turned out, Tina was in the pit of the outhouse. She was knee deep in poop. Tina had a baby chick in her hands, she had poked its eyes out with a stick. I may have been bad but my little sister was just down right stinky and mean.

It was bad enough having a grandson who was always bothering the chickens and their babies, but it was really, really bad to have a granddaughter wo would crawl into such a crappy place and torture poor little chicks the way she did.

I don't remember who had the honor of getting Tina out of the stink pit, but for some reason I suspect Uncle Harley was the choosen one, he always got the dirty jobs, because he was my grandparents youngest boy. He was maybe 15 years old at the time so he still had parents to obey.

I don't remember Tina ever going into the pit of an outhouse again I don't know if she got over torturing baby chicks though. I never knew of her to hurt any chicks again, but who knows, maybe she just found a safter and cleaner place to hide while doing her dirty work.

-- george nh (rcoopwalpole@aol.com), March 09, 2002

Answers

So, does Tina hate being reminded of this??? Knee deep in doo-doo I sure would.

-- Terri in WV (mrs_swift_26547@yahoo.com), March 09, 2002.

Terri, Yes she does hate being reminded of this. I think the thought of it makes her stomach turn.I still wonder why she decided to go down in there. I bet she thought no one would dare look in there for her.

-- george nh (rcoopwalpole@aol.com), March 09, 2002.

poked the eyes out of a chick? oy veh! George, some things are best left in the past...

-- Dave (multiplierx9@hotmail.com), March 09, 2002.

Dave, I am sorry I meant to write Tina was tenderly caressing the chick while whispering softly in its ear how cute and fuzzy it was:-)

Sorry if anyone was put off by this story. I am happy to report Tina (who has been called a chick, a babe, a hubba, hubba,hubba etc.. by many men as she passed by) did not suffer from her little romp in the outhouse, she's a very clean girl and would not think of playing in an outhouse today. And, I am sure since she has had years to think about what she did to the baby chick, is very sorry to all animal lovers throughout the world (including her big brother)for what she did years and years and years and years ago. My promise to you is, if Tina is not truely sorry for her horrible 2-year-old behavior back in 1965 than I am. Honestly;-)

-- george nh (rcoopwalpole@aol.com), March 09, 2002.

In my grandparent's garden, there was a terra cotta pipe that always had a goldfish in it but you couldn't see it because it was a narrow pipe and wasn't too clear so I would always use an enamel pan (with a hole in it) to scoop it out to look at it. I was always told not to bother the fish (and punished for it)but as soon as everyone turned their backs, there I was, digging it out again. Think they should have gotten me a fishtank?

-- Dee (gdgtur@goes.com), March 09, 2002.

Dee, as the saying goes, "Kids will be kids." Did you ever get yourself a fish tank?

-- george nh (rcoopwalpole@aol.com), March 09, 2002.

George, That was a good story. I feel for Tina, I once as a little girl about her age thought baby chicks were ducklings!!! Needless to say I put them in our small cement duck pond so they could swim, they didn't. I guess I pulled them out and had them lined up when my parents found me. Thank goodness we don't remember the stuff we did as small children!!!!

-- Suzanne (weir@frontiernet.net), March 10, 2002.

George, knowing Tina was only a couple of years old, we know she did not realize what she was doing, or did she? cute story as always. keep them coming.

-- Deneen Fla (beanerann@aol.com), March 12, 2002.