Chicken Scratch

When you’re an experienced farm hand like me, from time to time you gotta do farm hand kind of things. Like, drive your ten-year-old granddaughter to the local Tack and Feed Store to buy a bag of chicken scratch. We were out running errands together anyway, so when Juliet’s ma asked if we’d grab some o’ that scratch, Jules volunteered us.

Buckling up our seat belts, I turned over the engine on the Tahoe and looked at Jules, who sat up front with me. “Do you know what chicken scratch looks like?” I asked.

“Sure do,” she said nonchalantly. That’s how we farm folks are. Nonchalant. And familiar with chicken scratch. “Comes in a fifty pound sack,” she added. I put the truck in reverse and breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness it was some kind of feed. For a minute, I was worried it was an ointment we’d need after handling all those chickens.

We sashayed in through the front doors of the chicken scratch store like we knew what we were doing and gave a friendly farm hand wave to the girl behind the counter who must have been called in to work before she could finish dying her black hair. Half of it was bright purple. She nodded in our direction, her nose ring bouncing in time to the country western music playing on the intercom, and Jules and I wandered over to the pallets in the middle of the store where all the scratch was stacked up. We loaded our shopping cart and headed to the back of the store where the eggplant haired girl had told us the facilities were located.

I waited for Juliet in the plumbing aisle but got bored pretty fast. I’m a farm hand. I don’t know much about plumbing. So, staying close in case Jules hurried back out of the facilities, I was exploring the end caps where they kept jumper cables and plastic gas cans and the like when I saw something that interested me.

Scorpion weapons. Now here was something I could use.

I don’t know why God invented scorpions. They’re mean, fast, poisonous little varmints. They sneak up on you when you’re not paying attention and sting worse than a jellyfish, I think, although I’ve never been stung by a jellyfish. If they’d just stay outside where they belong, I wouldn’t give ‘em a second thought. But here in the desert, and even on the farm, they tiptoe into the house and cause havoc. They’re a dadgum nuisance.

I was examining some kind o’ mop with a trigger handle and a black light attached to its long pole when a salesman stopped to chat.

“Scorpions,” he announced, making me jump. I thought he saw one.

I squeezed the trigger a few times and stared at him. “I don’t rightly know how this thing works,” I admitted. The two green feet at the bottom of the pole didn’t look like they could catch anything, let alone an angry bug with a poisonous stinger on its tail. “I thought I’d take some o’ these here stick-n-seal traps,” I told him, tossing the slender box into my cart. “But I can’t figure this thing out.”

He looked as lost as I was. “Me neither,” he agreed. “We used to have scorpions, but we got a bug guy for that.” He wasn’t much of a salesman, I decided.

Interesting, though. We got a bug guy, too, but we still have scorpions. A bug guy Rob and I used to have once told me you can spray scorpions with poison, but it won’t kill ‘em. They’ll just lie there and play dead for a couple of days til they’re sure you’re not looking, and then they’ll jump up and hunt you down. I’ve never trusted a bug guy since.

I put the contraption back on the rack just as Jules came around the corner and we paid for the chicken scratch and the stick-n-seal scorpion traps and headed back to the farm. Once inside my room, I took a look at the seriously sticky traps I’d purchased. It wasn’t exactly an impulse purchase. Last week, I found two big scorpions in my room. Gives me the shivers just thinking about it. Katy’s husband dispatched them for me, thank goodness. After that, Katy loaned me a blacklight so’s I can find the little demons in the dark and dispatch them myself, especially if I locate one in the middle of the night.

I don’t mind grabbing chicken scratch now that I know it’s food, but handling even the demise of deadly bugs is way above my pay grade. I’m inexperienced and unqualified and I want to keep it that way. These sticky pads were just what I needed. They’d give me peace of mind. I’d just fold ‘em up, place ‘em around the room, and ta dah! They’d be decorated with dead scorpions by the next morning.

I turned over the box to read the directions. To say the least, it was enlightening.

SCORPIONS ARE DANGEROUS AND THEY CAN STING YOU!
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CAPTURE INSECT OVERHEAD AS THEY MAY FALL ON YOU!
SCORPION MAY STILL BE ALIVE – DO NOT UNSEAL THE TRAP!

Disclaimer: This product may leave adhesive residue, remove paint, or otherwise damage the wall or surface. Buyer assumes any responsibility for any cleanup or damage. USE AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Well, that was troubling. I was beginning to think the stick-n-seal traps were more risky than trying to kill a scorpion. Even if I’d bought the long-handled gadget from the end cap at the Tack and Feed Store, I couldn’t have used it to kill one of the critters, especially the huge version I’d found napping on the top of the door frame leading to my room. If the poisonous varmint fell on me, the warranty would be voided.

I opened the box of traps and pulled out one of the long sheets. There weren’t no way to fold it into a trap at all. Well, for Pete’s sake. The sticky things were refills for use with the green-footed Scorpion Bug Grabber that even the sales clerk couldn’t figure out.  I was stuck with a worthless five dollar box of paint remover sheets that are useless without the gadget. And, frankly, I’m not even sure the gadget is worth anything.

So now I’ve got to go back to the Tack and Feed Store and get my money back. All that annoyance just because we needed some feed for the chickens. When I told Jules about my troubles, she said there’s an easy way to get rid of scorpions and we already have the solution here on the farm. Turns out chickens are a natural predator and gobble up scorpions faster than chicken scratch.

I don’t know if I can live with a chicken in my bedroom. I’ll have to think on it some. But if I find any more scorpions in here, I’d consider it.

As long as the Tack and Feed Store sells ointment.

With thanks to Andrew for this great chicken profile. The original can be viewed by following this link: 

Chicken! | Andrew | Flickr