LAUREL CANYON —I could not have made this story up if I tried. It started with a query from a neighbor. “Do you know anyone who’s missing a chicken?” What? I thought. Someone dumped a plastic wrapped chicken from the market out on the street and you want to return it to its rightful owner?
Nope. Apparently my neighbor was strolling his twins on Carmar Drive, and there next to his house a live chicken was all huddled up against the cold—no owner in sight. Some nearby construction workers said they had chickens. Maybe this was a stow away? They came over and looked—no luck. Well Adam thought, if I leave this chicken on the street, it’s likely to be eaten by coyotes. His conscience couldn’t do it. So his older daughter, Martine, who loves the chickens at the petting zoos, was plucky enough to throw a towel over the chicken and scoop it up. Off they went home. Martine became the caretaker-in-chief, and settled the new pet into the garage. She made a pen out of newspapers and a box. The chicken was named Providence. She ate birdseed. Beans made her poop. When she pecked at people it didn’t hurt; turns out that she must have been a house pet. She loved to cuddle with Martine, and get her wings petted. She was quiet and well mannered. Providence created quite a stir. Neighborhood kids streamed in and out of the house to visit and play with the surprise visitor. Given this chicken, ahem, excuse me, hen’s good luck I’d say the name was appropriate.
So Providence settled into the garage, but, as life would have it Martine already had two cats. Adam tells me that the cats sat at the garage door patiently waiting. I can just see their tails ticking back and forth like metronomes.
Providence needed to be re-homed. Thank god we live in the 21st century because the e-mails were flying all over the neighborhood.
Adam did mention that he got lots of nutty e-mails and some very bad chicken jokes. At first there was a permanent adoption planned, but the landlord pointed out the “no pet” provision in the lease.
So wouldn’t you know it that in the upper reaches of Laurel Canyon there was an empty hen house and a willing foster family. An ideal prospective arrangement for Providence. So they put the hen inside a cat carrier and loaded her into the car. It seemed to the family that she enjoyed the car ride. The foster parents report that Providence likes to grab her string beans by the ends and whirl them around. She tosses her strawberry tops and then chases them like a cat. Her favorite thing? Settling into a lap and getting stroked. She gets along fine with Moose, the rescue dog.
Providence is happily ensconced in her foster home, where she is welcome. The hunt is still on for a suitable permanent home.
