get　along；　Mom。　I'll　teach　him。　I　promise。”

My　dad　said　softly；　“They're　pretty　self…sufficient；　Trina。”

But　then　the　boys　piped　up　with；　“Champ'll　piss　'em　to　death；　Mom；”　and　suddenly　they　were

on　a　roll。　“Yeah！　But　you　won't　even　notice　'cause

they're　yellow　already！”　“Whoa！　Yellow　Already—cool　name。”　“That　could　work！　But　wait—

people　might　think　we　mean　our　bellies！”　“Oh；　yeah—

forget　that！”　“Yeah；　just　let　him　kill　the　chicks。”

My　brothers　looked　at　each　other　with　enormous　eyes　and　started　up　all　over　again。　“Kill　the

Chicks！　That's　it！　Get　it？”　“You　mean　like　we're　chick

killers？　Or　like　we　kill　the　chicks？”

Dad　turned　around　and　said；　“Out。　Both　of　you；　get　out。　Go　find　a　name　elsewhere。”

So　they　scrambled　out；　and　the　three　of　us　sat　in　the　car　with　only　the　gentle　peep…peep…

peep　from　my　little　flock　breaking　the　silence。　Finally　my

mother　heaved　a　heavy　sigh　and　said；　“They　don't　cost　much　to　keep；　do　they？”

My　dad　shook　his　head。　“They　eat　bugs；　Trina。　And　a　little　feed。　They're　very　low…

maintenance。”

“Bugs？　Really？　What　sort　of　bugs？”

“Earwigs；　worms；　roly…polys　…　probably　spiders；　if　they　can　catch　them。　I　think　they　eat

snails；　too。”

“Seriously？”　My　mother　smiled。　“Well；　in　that　case　…”

“Oh；　thank　you；　Mom。　Thank　you！”

And　that's　how　we　wound　up　with　chickens。　What　none　of　us　thought　of　was　that　six　chickens

scratching　for　bugs　not　only　gets　rid　of　bugs；　it　also

tears　up　grass。　Within　six　months　there　was　nothing　whatsoever　left　of　our　yard。

What　we　also　didn't　think　of　was　that　chicken　feed　attracts　mice；　and　mice　attract　cats。　Feral

cats。　Champ　was　pretty　good　at　keeping　the　cats