Yes, I feed them. I dump leftover rice, papaya and pumpkin seeds, and all manner of leftover food, in my backyard, and then I enjoy watching these beautiful creatures enjoy their feast. In return, they give me their chicken poop, a truly closed loop and some of the best fertilizer in the world.
If House Bill 72 passes into law (it won’t), the police could come after me with a $500 fine.
Yes, those majestic roosters crow at ungodly hours of morning, noon and night. Yes, they dig holes in my yard that irritates me to no end. But their vibrant plumage, the subtle clucking of the mother hen, and the long train of baby chicks that follow her out of the bushes and into the yard — it’s part of my very being. Images of my children and grandchildren chasing them at the beach, the laughter, the color, the exploding energy of the chickens taking flight just inches from their fingertips — yes, it’s safe to say that chicken culture is embedded in my very soul.
While I of course cannot speak for everyone, where I live, wild chickens are an integral part of our daily lives. I know I’m not the only person who smiles when they see the chickens greeting them at the airport upon returning to Kaua‘i from a trip.
So leave them the heck alone. I’m telling you, don’t mess with our chickens.
And while we’re at it, leave my cat “Socks” alone as well. Laws banning the feeding of feral and/or outside cats have also been proposed.
I understand the importance of protecting native birds, I really do. But banning me from feeding my cat who never leaves my yard and who bothers no one but me when she’s hungry?
Socks has never ever killed a native bird, I promise you that. The only birds she’s ever messed with are the doves and rice birds who sometimes fly into our windows, knocking themselves silly, sometimes unconscious, or sometimes worse.
Socks will literally lay stretched out in the shade under the mango tree while the chickens roam just a few feet from her lazy gaze. She couldn’t be bothered with all the work it takes to chase them. And then what? I’m sure she’s thinking. What do I do with them once I catch them (a big assumption there)?
Socks is an outdoor cat, who never ever comes into the house. If she did, for sure she and Maximus Aurelius would clash and I can only imagine the damage they would inflict on the inside of our home — racing madly around the rooms chasing each other, and knocking over all manner of things.
Socks was or is (you tell me) a feral cat. She was born under our house. Claudette trapped her and a few of her brothers and sisters, had them fixed and chipped at the Humane Society, and then brought Socks home to live with us outside with the chickens. I feed her every afternoon. She waits patiently on the steps and rubs her body against my legs as I navigate down to the yard where her food bowl sits. What she doesn’t eat, the chickens and the doves finish off.
I’m not entirely clear if a ban on feeding feral cats would apply to Socks. She definitely has a deep feral streak, but she is a family friend who lives with us, in our yard, far away from the natural habitat of native birds.
So, to all the politicians out there: Please leave my chickens and my cat Socks alone. Maximus can take care of himself. You don’t even want to mess with Max.
Seriously. Don’t you have real work to do? Perhaps you can build some affordable housing, fill some potholes, legalize cannabis, cut our taxes, pay our teachers a decent salary, fight climate change, increase health and dental care, regulate tourism, or condemn the Coco Palms Hotel and create a community center that honors its deep history and cultural significance.
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Gary Hooser is the former vice-chair of the Democratic Party of Hawai‘i, and served eight years in the state Senate, where he was majority leader. He also served for eight years on the Kaua‘i County Council. He serves in a volunteer capacity as board president of the Hawai‘i Alliance for Progressive Action and is executive director of the Pono Hawai‘i Initiative.
