Drunken Chicken

There is a type of drunken chicken you get when you cook a chicken on top of a can of beer. I’m not really sure how that works, but I’ve read about it.

Then there is the type of drunken chicken you get when Millie goes on a bender. Yes, I got my chicken drunk yesterday. It was not my proudest moment.

Listen, here’s how it happened. We have a slug problem in the garden. Given that we’re not into poisoning the environment (not to mention the local birds and our chickens) with chemicals, we do not use slug bait. Instead, I set beer traps throughout the garden beds. The slugs are attracted to the yeasty brew, they slime their way into the low, beer-filled cups, and they get drunk and die happy.

I was working on the tedious project of repairing the raised garden beds yesterday and so I let the chickens out to roam freely in the yard. They absolutely love pecking around looking for bugs to eat. I looked up frequently to make sure the girls weren’t destroying any flowers or getting themselves into trouble. I was even paying special attention to make sure they didn’t linger near the beer traps. But after quite a while out there, I looked up and spotted Millie: she was not just lingering over a beer trap, not just pecking at the trap, but chugging beer like a freshman at a frat party.

I ran over and chased the girls to another part of the yard and went back to my project, but as soon as I sat down, I saw Millie walking purposefully toward the beer trap. I got there just as she was going in for another swig. This time, I chased her even farther into the yard, but as I walked back to my project, I kept a sharp eye on her. She set off at a full sprint toward the beer. At this point I gave up and corralled the girls back into their pen.

Needless to say, I was concerned about the effects of alcohol on a pre-adolescent chicken. From our observations, it seems that they are similar to the effects on humans. After a while, Millie was rolling around on the ground and flapping her legs and wings around in what seemed to be a really happy, if ungraceful, manner. She didn’t try to get up much, but when she did, she didn’t stay up long. Phyllis and Flo, who are used to following their fearless leader around in their regular pecking and scratching activities, sat with her for a while and looked really confused. Eventually they got bored and went back to pecking while Millie lolled around for the rest of the afternoon.

My name is Lorraine and my chicken is an alcoholic.

Savage Chickens: Drink Beer Cartoon