Today I learned the shocking truth about how I came to be, when Mama M. let it slipped that I was supposed to be a hen. Well, a couple of hens, specifically the egg-laying kind. Apparently a few years ago, Mama M. was trying to figure out what to get for Mama L. for her birthday present, and they decided that it would be neat to have backyard chickens. The Mamas started doing all this research on the types of hens and dug up all sorts of interesting facts. They even went to a local feed store to buy some chicks, but the brood they wanted wasn’t going to be ready for a few more weeks. They found out that within the City of Oakland, they can have as many chickens as they want, as long as the chickens are enclosed and at least 20 feet away from neighbors. No roosters are allowed within city limits, but the Mamas said roosters don’t lay eggs anyway. They even did all this research into building their own chicken coops and where to place it in the yard. With urban farming becoming more and more common, chickens are quite popular where we live now. Little Sis and I see them all the time on our daily walks.
The only reason why they did not get the chickens was because the Mamas were afraid that the raccoons and the rats would get into the cage. Mama M.’s friend Doug had told her about the time when the rats got in his cage and chewed off all the chickens’ feet. Mama L. was so upset when she heard this that Mama M. said we can always go to our local store up the street to buy eggs. Perhaps Mama L. might want a puppy instead?
Obviously the rest is history. Mama L. found my picture on some internet site. My name wasn’t Madeleine then; I was called “December”. I was named after a stupid month, and not just any month, it had to be the last month of the year. The coldest, darkest, wettest most miserable month of the year.