Chicken Chronicles: The Case of the Missing Eggs
The eggs were definitely missing. No matter how hard I looked, they were gone. My house should be securely locked. The egg carton was full of fresh eggs straight from the farmstand. I was told I didn’t have to refrigerate them until I washed them, so I left the eggs on the kitchen counter overnight.
It was 8:00 the next morning, and the carton and the eggs were gone. My wife and kids were still in bed. What could have happened?
“Alexa, Do you know what happened to the eggs I left out last night?”
After a short pause, Alexa said, “I’m sorry, I cannot answer that question. You are not the owner of the eggs.”
“WHAT? I bought those eggs!”
Alexa remained silent.
So I pulled out my iPhone. “Hey Siri, Do you know what happened to the eggs I had last night?”
Siri’s response was, “Here’s what I’ve found: Exit Iowa app at night: https://www.iexitapp.com/exits/Iowa
“THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID!” I screamed. “Oh, forget it, I’ll figure it out myself,” I muttered to no one in particular.
The first place I looked was the front door. It was still locked. However, when I stepped outside and looked at the door on the outside, I noticed some claw-like scratchings at the base of the door. It hadn’t rained, and the ground was rather dry. I noticed some prints on the surrounding dirt going from the door to the side of the house, right below the kitchen window. One could best describe some of the prints as chicken scratches. The kitchen window was open. Someone must have left it open last night.
When my wife and kids woke up, and I questioned them about the eggs, they said they had nothing to do with the disappearance. This was a true mystery.
Since we had no eggs, I was sent back to the farmstand, which was only a block from our house, to buy more.
The farmer didn’t look surprised to see me, and as I had another dozen to purchase in my hand, he asked if there was any problem with the ones I bought yesterday.
I felt too foolish to admit they had disappeared, I nodded no and said nothing.
When I got home, we washed the eggs we planned to eat and left the rest on the counter again.
Sure enough, the carton and the eggs were missing the next day, and the kitchen window was open again. Something was afoot, and I planned on catching the culprit the next night.
Back at the farm stand the next day, I purchased my third dozen eggs from the farmer. If I had been more attentive, I would have noticed his nod toward the hen coop and the strange smile on his face.
I set up my iPhone camera on a tripod in a bush outside near the kitchen window. It was well hidden. I could control it with my Apple Watch remotely so that I could stay inside.
As I had done the previous days, I placed the eggs on the counter. I turned off all but one nightlight and hid where I wouldn’t be seen.
Shortly after midnight, I heard movement from outside the kitchen window. I activated my iPhone’s camera on video mode.
Inside I heard the kitchen window being opened very slowly. Once the window was open, there was a flutter of wings, and you won’t believe it, but a hen flew into the kitchen. And then another, and then one more. Surprisingly they did not make a sound coming in.
Following their entrance, they somehow proceeded to go to the counter, open the carton, take out the eggs, one by one, and fly them back to the open window. They left the eggs on the window sill; I saw a hand reach up for the eggs and take them away.
Having emptied the carton, the chickens took and flew it away, then disappeared.
I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a camera inside the house to record the event. Still, the one on the outside of the house was evidence enough, especially since it clearly showed the farmer as the person opening the window, releasing the hens, and taking the eggs back. Additionally, I had tagged the eggs and the carton with an invisible marker that could be revealed under blacklight.
I had all the proof I needed. Now, what to do with it?
I could have gone to the police with what I had. But even with the video, I would be the laughingstock of the precinct. I could see the headlines, “Local Resident Scammed by Chickens.”
I came up with a better idea. Maybe a little helpful blackmail.
I decided to confront the farmer, but not before I had my son videotape me buying the same carton of eggs that had been stolen. The next day, I brought a portable blacklight to ensure I was purchasing the same carton and eggs.
I showed the farmer the videos and explained how I had seen how his operation worked. I told him that his operation had to stop or else I would release the videos publicly and that he should provide me with eggs whenever I needed some at a discounted price. He readily agreed; it seemed he already had a criminal record and couldn’t afford to be arrested again.
I fixed the kitchen window when I got home, preventing any more break-ins, and from that day on always washed eggs as soon as I brought them home and kept them in the refrigerator.
And no one is the wiser about my tale. That is except you, who are reading this, and the people where my wife works. She loves asking everyone, “Did I tell you the story about the chicken?”
