For those of you who haven’t ever had reason to try, getting chickens to move down the roosting bar to make room for one more takes a little more than just a “skooch”, even if followed up with “please”. Sigh.

Dear Ruby. She’s been in isolation for a week now. Her feathers are coming in and her wounds seem to be healing but it’s a slow process. While we wait for her to fully heal (read that: for no signs of injury that the other chickens will make worse), we have kept her in her own fenced area of the run. She’s not at all happy about it, even if it means she isn’t getting pecked to death. Literally. Chickens can be such assholes.

Tonight, with a winter weather advisory that includes high winds, cold temps and some sort of nasty precipitation, we decided to try to put Ruby back in the coop with the flock just to roost for the night.

When I first took her in, the other six were all snuggled up together, with April on the only open end. I know enough about the pecking order of my flock than to put poor Ruby next to April, so I picked up Iris and made her swap places with April. Iris is pretty easy going for a chicken, and the moment I set Ruby next to her, Ruby recognized a friend and nestled her whole head under Iris’ wing. Unfortunately, Iris didn’t recognize a friend in return and took to pecking at Ruby’s eyes and face. Again and again. When that didn’t seem to be ceasing, I decided to relocate Ruby. Trouble was, the next best place for her was next to Della and she was much further down the line. I had to “skooch” Iris, then April, then Beatrix (who wasn’t happy about it at all and sat her fluffy butt right back down). Millie was so perturbed by the notion that she fluttered up to the other roosting bar out of the way (which helped!) I eventually got Ruby situated in between Della and Hazel, and left her turned the opposite direction from them so even if they felt compelled, it was a much more difficult stretch to peck at Ruby’s face (and nearly as difficult to get at her injured wings). Hazel pecked at her once, but then everyone seemed to settle in, Millie even returned to the flock and I said a quiet prayer and went back to the house.

About an hour later, I went back out, my conscience eating at me. I know chickens can be ruthless to put it mildly and I didn’t want them to undo a week of healing in one cold night. When I went back in, I went right up to Ruby with my flashlight so I could see if either of her wounds were bleeding or seemed to be any worse. I was trying to do so as inconspicuously as possible, as I didn’t want to disturb the girls if they were settled in well together. As I checked on her wing, I thought for a moment Hazel was going to start pecking at her again and I quietly scolded her. As I did, Della took her wing and laid it right over Ruby, covering her up and hiding any injuries from Hazel’s view. It was the sweetest thing I’ve seen any of the girls ever do.

I can’t promise or even hope that Ruby won’t be worse for the wear by morning. And I can’t even truly suggest that Della’s move was intentional. But for now, I’m going to let my heart believe that it was. That even when we are surrounded by those who want to kick a girl when she’s down, by those who would rather see us continue to be hurt and troubled, when it’s in the “best interest” of the group to keep one of us from getting the respite we need, out of the blue a true friend might emerge and save us. If only for a moment. If only for tonight.

Maybe I’m too softhearted to be a chicken mama. Maybe I’m not the best farm wife or animal owner when my heart aches so much for my creatures. Maybe I’m going to have some real heartaches down the road (maybe as soon as tomorrow morning) but for just a moment tonight, I was blessed by the kindness of a chick. Of a protective wing and a hen who can cuddle up and stay warm tonight. I know it’s where Ruby wants to be. Thanks, Della, for the tender moment. Ruby was surely blessed by it as well.