Virginia Chook

The Occasional Chook turned up rather late today at around 16.30. I was having an indoor nap, but immediately went out to say hallo. We had a joyous reunion, as I haven't seen her since last Wednesday.

These days, since she abandoned us after eighteen months of house sharing to sign up with the chickens two doors up (I'm still not bitter about it, honestly), we normally catch up with each other 3-4 times a week, usually Wednesdays and Sundays and then randomly whenever. I know she swings by most days - there's plenty of evidence of the poopy kind on the patio that I have to sweep up and wash away - but our busy schedules often clash. I have the Arvo Job and other commitments, she has whatever onerous duties she must perform as part of her new flock. Often, I hear demanding clucks outside the kitchen and barely have time to toss a handful of sunflower seeds out the window before I have to run for the train, and sometimes we can miss each other for long stretches of time and I wonder whether she'll keep popping by. So far, despite the uncertainty of treats and opportunities to run around the kitchen, she still turns up.

Initially, after she'd finally decided to move out, whenever she came back she was obviously agitated and most eager to be away again ASAP once she scrounged her favourite treats and had a quick dirt bath. I was almost going to rechristen her the Ungrateful Chook. I suspect she was worried she might lose her spot in her new flock if she went AWOL for too long. Chicken flocks are notoriously tough on newcomers, and demand much submissiveness and compliance from accepted members. A lot like humans, eh? Oh, all right, I'll back off - a lot like some humans. However, as time passed, and she obviously settled into her new digs and felt more confident about her place in the chook hierarchy there, she became visibly more relaxed about sneaking off to spend time here, and started to hang around for longer and longer. Now food is savoured, cats are followed about, the garden is patrolled and checked, and many many dirt baths are taken *sigh*. Last Wednesday, as I napped in the backyard on the Xmas Swing, she even settled down close by for a companionable snooze. It was very cute.

Personally, as a chicken of great individuality, I think she needs our place the way Virginia Woolf regarded a room of one's own as an absolute necessity for the stretching of one's creative spirit in the pursuit of writing. I myself regard my beloved Writing Room as the place where I most feel like my true self. But, quickly, back to the Occasional Chook before I ramble on about me. Here, away from the conformity of the flock, the Occasional Chook can indulge in her fondness for felines, checking out human abodes, running around on tops of houses and being bossy. She can basically strut about, let down her feathers and just be her own wild thing for a while before her need for the companionship of her own kind overwhelms her again and she heads back to once more submit to the totalitarianism of the flock. She needs them to be happy, can't live without them in fact, but she obviously really needs her own space away from the flock too.



Well, that's my rather read-the-obvious-writerly-subtext theory about the Occasional Chook's behaviour :)