The Meaning Behind "Rural Fetish"

Below is the text of an email I sent out to some of my coworkers today:

I brought 2 dozen truly organic, free-range, vegetarian-fed hen (unless they ate bugs and stuff, which is really beyond my control) eggs today. Scott has first dibs on ½ dozen, if he wants them, as a ‘reward’ for bringing in many, many egg cartons. The rest are first come, first served. They are in the fridge, and there are ½ dozen cartons with them. To use, wash them under running water before cracking.

Also, if you want to bring me some egg cartons, I would not only appreciate it, but I would fill them with brand new eggs and bring them back to you, all for free. Our chickens have requested that their eggs be goodwill eggs.

Also, if you want a rooster, I have one that I will give you. If you don’t take him, he will be killed. That little so-and-so stepped up to ME this morning! He actually came running after me, and stood there defiantly even as I kicked my foot in his direction! Angry now, I chased him a few feet, English muffin and to-do list in hand, until I slipped on the grass and fell on my ass. Luckily, I avoided chicken crap. It’s a good country day!

For those dear reader coworkers who are relatively new, I need to explain. I have 17 chickens--15 hens and 2 roosters. Currently, the four Rhode Island Red hens are all laying, so I get 4 eggs per day. Very soon, the four Barred Rock hens will begin laying, and then the 2 Bantam Buckeye hens, the 4 Ameracauna hens (they lay blue and green eggs! Just like Martha's fancy-ass chickens!), and the Bantam Black Cochin hen. "Bantam" is a catch-all term for miniature chickens, which are about half the size of a normal chicken. Think of "Miniature Greyhound" in the dog world, and you get the idea. And, yes, they lay teeny little eggs, still incredibly edible.

Now, you don't need roosters to get eggs. You only need roosters if you want fertilized eggs and the resulting new chickens. Fertilized eggs taste the same as unfertilized eggs, only there is a slight gross-out factor if you really think about what you're eating, which is a fetus and the contents of a placenta. But that's neither here nor there.

We have two roosters--one big Barred Rock (a lovely black and white striped breed), and one Bantam Black Cochin (blackish-blue feathers with feathered feet, giving them the look of a chicken wearing extreme bellbottoms, only it's like a Wal-Mart attempt at fashionable bell-bottoms--they just go too far). The Black Cochin rooster is named Sue, after the guy in the Shel Silverstein/Johnny Cash song who has to beat everyone up because he's named Sue. Our little Cochin, with his fancy little bell-bottoms, luckily doesn't know that other roosters think he's a total queer. He has the cutest high-pitched crow, and is too intimidated by the big hens to try to take a ride, if you get my drift.

It's the other rooster, Tim, that has become a problem. A local chicken expert told us that when he starts getting cocky and "challenges" us, to chase him down, grab him by the legs, and whirl him around in great, revolving loops. Unfortunately, he has taken out his newly sexually-mature bravado on Spawnasaurus...THREE times now. Once he knocked him down, the second time he actually scratched his face, and the third time he just "puffed up" and scared Spawn. All three times Offered has given him a helicopter ride. But Tim won't learn.

Which brings us to this morning's episode. So we are going to kill and eat Tim. I'm sure that the hens won't miss the animal world's equivalent to a meathead in a Speedo with lots of gold chains jumping them all the time in what canNOT be described as "making love." And we won't miss an aggressive rooster terrorizing our son and leading me to fall on my ass in rage. But, still, we raised him from a fuzzy little chick and his sheer beauty and amusing personality add a lot of character to our little ranch. I imagine that eating him will be bittersweet. Think of Homer and Pinchy the Lobster, and you get the idea.