We have five chickens, all of them completely impractical birds. There’s one whopper and four midgets, smaller but less destructive as a result. Not from any lack of trying, though.
Gigi is the foster mother of …

In this final chapter, our puppet dictator finds herself in a white trash nightmare of her own making…
The grass was bare. The shrubs scratched to the roots. The plants either eaten by chickens, or merely …

Our protagonist discovers that since the flock is absent a real rooster, she has become its proxy…
The flock was coming into maturity. They were almost full size at five months, so their enormous feet were …

When last we left our heroine, she was blindly and stupidly chasing after chicks through her Garden Paradise…
Our chicks. Four girls, built of feathers and destruction. They were, according to the flock hierarchy:
Mimi, a Cuckoo …

When last we left our story, Garbanzo the rooster had been placed in a new home by the hair of his wattles….
In the meantime, the chicks were growing. The brooder in the basement had been …

Our chicken story begins with gardening, as I suspect many urban chicken stories do. Over the last several years we have been shifting masses of soil and plants, sheets of asphalt, mountains of compost to …

Scene: March, 2009. Winter is officially over but the sky is still leaden and heavy with rain. The nascent plants and flowers are peeking though the soil tender and bright, offering a hint of the …