My chickens are wicked...

…well, some part of them is anyway. 

This past spring we got 10 new baby chicks from IFA.  On an impulse, I also picked up a turkey pullet. I thought it might be fun to raise our own Thanksgiving dinner.

When I brought them all home, the turkey was about the same size as the baby chicks.  It didn’t take long, however, for that to change.  Soon he was much, much larger than the hens.  Being raised along with the chickens, he fit in pretty well and probably thought he was just another chicken. 

He kept growing at a faster pace, though, and within a couple of months he towered over the other chickens.  The smaller ones could even walk between his legs.  This led to the perfect name for him—Goliath.  (I’m told it is not usually wise to name your food as it can make it harder to eat when that time comes. But Goliath didn’t seem too endearing, and the name fit him well.)

All was pretty blissful at the coop through the summer.  The chickens matured and started laying their first eggs in beautiful brown and pastel green shades.  The turkey was maturing too and began puffing up his tail-feathers and strutting around the yard.

We’ve all heard the saying ‘proud as a peacock’, but it turns out that peacocks don’t have a corner on pride.  Turkeys can give them a run for their money any day. 

The problem is that when Goliath is all puffed up, he can’t see anything behind him.  He is partially blinded.  It is this “blindness” that gives the chickens their opening.  They seem to take great delight in sneaking up behind him and pecking him right on his exposed backside, sometimes hard enough to draw blood.  I'm sure it hurts.   Each time, Goliath squawks and jumps and the tail-feathers come back down in a protective position.  The offending hen struts away apparently very pleased with herself.

Goliath never learns.  After a few moments, the feathers come back up.  The strutting begins anew.  And soon another hen moves in for a strike.  It’s all part of life in the coop, I guess.

It strikes me though, as a good analogy for our own pride.  Whenever pride creeps into our lives it leaves us blind and exposed in some areas.  Left unchecked for very long, life has a way of nailing us in just the right spot.  I don’t know that I learn much faster than Goliath as I often repeat the same mistakes over and over in my life.

For most of my life I have had far too much pride.  It is something I would like to set aside and remove from my life.  I sincerely apologize and ask your forgiveness for my pride, and especially to the members of my family who have probably been most afflicted by it.