To Phil!

Every now and then you get that one special chicken or rooster that is very special. He or she will stand out with its zany or different personality. There is a particular hatchery that will send a surprise, rare chicken if you order fifty or more birds. Of course we agreed to the surprise. When the chicks arrived, the kids got out the catalog and started researching what breed was picked for us. It was pretty easy...a Buff Laced Polish, a very docile and easy-going breed...so they say. As our new bird started to grow feathers on top of the head, we named her Phyllis. She looked like she was wearing a Phyllis Diller wig. Feeding the birds one morning, I happened to hear a crow coming from the "new chick" coop. Our dear Phyllis was now a Phil.

Now Phil wasn't exactly the docile, easy-going bird that the Buff Laced Polish are known for. We affectionately called him Schizo Phil. The poor guy was definitely on the bottom of the pecking order. He didn't have many hens that hung out with him. Maybe one or two at most. Phil was a very jumpy bird that startled very easily. He wouldn't dare let you touch him. Sometimes at night when the birds would be roosting, I would quickly grab him and hold him just to see what he felt like. Oh the shrieks!

One beautiful, sunny day as I was on my front porch, I noticed a large shadowing from above. Only a buzzard, I thought. I glanced over to the chicken area and saw the chickens scattering everywhere. The "buzzard" I saw was really a hawk. A big one, too! I ran over there just in time to see the hawk dive down towards Phil. He got close but it must not have had a good angle. Phil escaped him and ran over to the tree line. I still remember seeing him perched on a fallen limb all hunkered down.

One dreary, drizzly day I was walking past some side windows and just happened to glance outside to see chickens scurrying from the back treeline to their home. Definitely a sign that means "go check it out"! I ran out with the dogs and noticed Phil's feathers at the treeline and the trail leading downhill and into the adjacent field. I also noticed the dogs taking off toward that field. They disappeared over the hilltop. I felt so sad. Not Phil! All I could do was to try to follow his feathers and maybe I could find him. I walked down the hill one last time. Two of my dogs came back while one was still out there. When I finally realized I lost Phil I heard a loud squawk way on the other side of the trees and hill. When I got over there, the third dog was standing near Phil. He was definitely wounded. It was hard to see to what extent, but after being in the mouth of a fox of course there would be some injuries. I picked him up and carried him over to the house. He just laid there, almost lifeless, in my arms. But when I reached the side door, his head perked up, gave a loud shriek and jumped out of my arms to the ground. There he goes, running across the yard.

One dark night, the kids and I were closing up the chicken and turkey shed. At that time, we didn't have many turkeys so they were able to roost in their own shed in a nearby field. I used to count all of the chickens before I closed their door. Phil wasn't there! Oh no. I let the kids know and we searched with flashlights to see if we could find feathers. We must have been looking for an hour, all of us sad. I told the kids we can't do anything about it and we should just go in. Jonah went over to close the turkey shed door. "Phil's in here with the turkeys!" Goofy boy, putting us through such a scare.

Yet again...while out scoping the grounds, I noticed a pile of Phil's feathers by the trees. Here we go again. Luckily, I saw him right away by the coop...without a tail. Phil looked silly for the longest time. But the tail feathers eventually grew back and he was beautiful once again.

It was never a big surprise that Phil didn't wander too far away from the coop. He was happy being crazy close to his home. Strangely, after a couple of years he started venturing across the yard to the other side of the house. It was like he discovered a whole new world. Finally Phil was coming out of his shell!

Then one sad night, I noticed Phil wasn't in the shed roosting with the others. I had a feeling this time that it wasn't good. I did a quick search around the yard where the sheds are located. But knowing he traveled across other fields, his chances were better to be seen by a fox. "I'll wait to tell the kids in the morning", I thought. We've had our share of chickens taken away by fox, but the news of Phil was pretty hard to take for all of us. He managed to escape so many dangerous situations. We just assumed he was invincible.

Oddly enough, I didn't find his feathers out in the new field Phil discovered. They were in the corner by the fence close to his home. This happened a year ago and a tear actually came to my eye while writing about him. We sure do miss that crazy bird!