Chickens Are Fowl

 

I was fast asleep at about 1:10 a.m. when Margarita’s voice woke me up.  The next sound I heard in my semi-awareness was rain.  It had to be a dream, so I tried to recover my state of unawareness.  She said something about the poor chickens and my consciousness did an about face.  It WAS raining…and the chickens had nothing to protect them from water that would be pouring off the patio and kids’ roofs and running down the driveway upon which they made their home.

She was up first.  Juan was already outside getting soaked as he put some sheets of plastic over the clothes line that supported the sheets which gave the poultry shade by day.  Having no better idea than Juan’s, I retired to the I servicio, that’s the john to you, and relieved myself.  Upon my egress, I determined that Juan and Margarita had everything under control.  The two roosters and twelve hens were not complaining, so I went back to bed.  Margarita followed shortly and went about killing the newly immigrated zancudos (our brand of mosquito) with the tennis racquet zapper.  I was getting back to my z’s when she turned on the light to find the one she was stalking.  ¡Ay!

This is where the “It’s different here” thing comes into play.  Earlier in the day, Margarita and Juan discussed plans to build a shelter for when the rainy season returned around May.  They know how to do this stuff.  I just buy any materials we need and Juan does the work.  But here in El Salvador, the tendency is to plan and procrastinate until the need becomes urgent.

 

It wasn’t a particularly hard rain.  It lasted on and off until dawn then ceased until Margarita and I had taken the kids to school and got stuck there for another 15 or 20 minutes before we could dash home.  I don’t know how uncomfortable a chicken might be sitting in mud while trickles and rivulets of rainwater pass under its belly, but they didn’t seem to be too annoyed.  Duke, on the other hand, free to roam, stayed nice and dry on the patio.  I felt sorry for the chickens and wondered if we should eat all fourteen today to put them out of their discomfort.  Margarita, being wiser than I, discounted that thought and the sun came out in approval.

It’s now after 10:00 and the kids will be dismissed from school again at 10:30.  I still want to take Duke to the vet in Chalchuapa for his scheduled shot.  According to last night’s prognostication, the rain is only for today.  We’ve had our warning of weather to come.  Juan is working at his farmer job today, so I’m sure he won’t be cutting the bamboo poles we’ll need to support the sheet metal roofing that was discussed.  Hopefully, we’ll get it done before the next storm.  I hate to see chickens drowning.

Chicks after Rain

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2 responses to “Chickens Are Fowl

  1. Maybe you should switch to ducks?

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