How do you feel about guinea hens? Are you neutral? Opposed? Super pumped? About guinea hens?
I’m guessing most of you are neutral. Most of you probably never even realized that you should form an opinion about guinea hens. Personally, I think everyone should hold an opinion about everything, particularly trifles, and share those opinions openly, repeatedly and without solicitation.
So, do you want to know how I feel about guinea hens? No? Well, I LOVE them!!! I love stalking them, watching them, chasing them, eluding them, denuding them (with my eyes). (Not just denuding them of feathers with my eyes; also trussing them, brining them, roasting, and eating them with my eyes.) But I’m likewise content to live and let live. And what a life, living side by side with guinea hens!
I admit this is a newly formed opinion, since I was afforded my first real personal glimpse of the bird last week. Because it’s so fresh in my experience, I’m kind of a flaming firebrand for guinea hens. It’s not that I have convictions about guinea hens, rather that I have feelings and enthusiasms for them. I do sometimes wonder if it will last.
I came upon these guinea hens house-sitting for my friend Lynn who lives in Los Ranchos de Albuquerque– a throw-back village enveloped by Albuquerque proper. It’s a bucolic little niche of the city–unpainted roads, tousled pastures, honeysuckle, full growth trees, old adobes…that sort of thing. I think they have really loosey-goosey livestock laws because here is a land where peacocks and pearl guinea hens roam free in the streets.
You know what I like about guinea hens? Their free-roaming nature. I like going for a walk and wondering, where are the guinea hens? Where? Are they out somewhere roaming free? Suddenly *bam!* there they are perched on a wall or moseying across a driveway with a devil-may-care attitude. I like that their mouthfeel and taste is somewhere between chicken and pheasant. I hope to partake of one’s flesh someday. I like that they eat pests such as rodents and ticks and other bugs, thereby saving themselves from humiliating categorization as mere hood-ornament pet. I like imagining them wandering through the peanut fields of Africa, centuries ago, while a Malian princess played a rudimentary banjo. I like that the British used to call them “gleanies.” I like their spunk.
In summary, I LOVE guinea hens!!!!
But I fuckin hate the painted bush quail.