All hail, Dominique, the patron saint of chickens

Dominique. She is the mother. She is the one who made it. She made babies and they exist as of two minutes ago when they demanded for food with their tiny squeaks.

The outlier. Last year our egg production slowed to a trickle. Two eggs from our 18 egging hens. What could have happened? A week later we found out why: Under the back door steps, away from the farmyard, the chickens squirreled away 18 eggs in hope for a new beginning. Who started this craze? I assume that it was the chicken with the wherewithal to leave the safety of the farmyard: Dominique.

It sounds like a fancy name, but it’s her breed. But she is graceful and womanly and held the deep desire to make babies when her other hen pals gave up.

She lives under the steps now, with the warm dryer vent spilling out next to her. She has committed to a life of being on her own, doing things her way. She is the outlier that I strive to be.

We hadn’t seen her in a few days, and I went to check. She sat on her nest with a clutch — a small clutch, but they were her own eggs fertilized by the man of the farm, Fred.

Quiet and diligent, Dominique sat. We brought her water and food and cheered her on. She wanted nothing of our encouragement, but gladly took the water and food when we weren’t looking. And then she had two chicks, Tide and Downy.

We do have hatchlings on the farm, but we do bring in chicks and ducks on occasion to widen the farmyard gene pool. I’m learning how that can get fairly shallow quickly around here.

Unlike our cranky goose who hissed and squawked or our duck Tilda who it seemed to be due the 4th of Nevuary, Dominique quietly and quickly delivered her eggs into being and has been attached to them ever since.

The other chickens look at her in awe. The crowd hushes when she graces the farmyard with her presence. Maya Angelou, the goddess of getting things done said. “You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all.” That’s Dominique.

It’s a lonely place when you do things on your own terms, but that’s okay. You’ll have just enough people to get by, even if you have to make them.