A character change: the inner ‘momma bear’ comes out

A shift in character

Last year, with the rising cost of groceries and I and Leona (my wife) on a constant search for things which will broaden the girls’ worldviews, we purchased six chickens. The entire process of locating and transporting the perfect animals while simultaneously ensuring that they would have a safe place to nest was a fun adventure for our family. Over the next few months of chicken ownership, the girls have experienced the full gamut of emotion surrounding their newest adventure. At times loving the two-legged monsters and at others detesting the added work and general messiness of quasi-farm life.

One constant remained with their feathery adventure, that was the fact that they have grown to care for the animals who have become quasi-pets to them. It wouldn’t be uncommon for the girls to be found on nice afternoons sitting in the coop, petting and hand feeding “the girls,” as they’ve become known. Each has their very own name, given to them by the girls. I was amazed that chickens seemed to show emotion and welcome the girls during their daily treks.

This past week, the girl’s proverbial fairy tale was shattered as they experienced the cruel reality of owning farm life. Each morning Lilli heads out to do the early chores associated with the chickens. Once she fed and watered the girls, she quickly moved to the bedding boxes where she would normally gather that day’s eggs. As she opened the box, to her horror, she realized one chicken, Lavern, had brutally passed away during the evening. With tear-filled eyes, Lilli came back into the house and described what she saw.

As I inspected the coop it was evident that a racoon had somehow entered the coop and preyed upon the roosting chicken. Following disposing of Lavern, I began inspecting any possible entry points for the predator. Once complete, I returned to the house, I consoled the child and laid out the plan with the girls, detailing what I had done to prevent future incursions. As we spoke about trapping the racoons the girls inquired as to what I would do with them once we caught them.

I explained that I would take the raccoons far away and release them back into the wild. Upon saying that, the girls transitioned into full blown momma bear mode and demanded retaliation for their sweet Lavern. Stunned at my kind little ladies’ response, it was evident they had been watching a series on Vikings, or some other violent, retribution-type film, I simply shook my head. As the day went on, the girl’s stance never wavered.

My mind remained racing about the girls’, and their mother’s, response to what they wanted to see done with the raccoons. It was then that it hit me. They are responding just as any good parent or loved one would. There are times in life when we are touched by violence and pain due to loss. There are other times when protecting our friends and family against harm must take center stage. My girls, and their mom, through the loss of Lavern had proven the same thing I teach to students, monthly, about sometimes having to find your inner “Momma Bear” when face-to-face with violence. It’s not a negative attribute, simply a shift in character, designed around truly caring for and preserving our loved ones. Be a momma bear my friends, but only when the situation warrants it. Hold onto our loved ones, feed them with wisdom, and spend a little time talking to the chickens in your life. You won’t regret it.

Richard J. Stephens lives in Carter County and is the father of three little ladies ranging in age from 9 to 29.