WASHINGTON – She found the chicken on the side of the road.
Pattrice Jones had just moved to her new home on the Delmarva Peninsula, and while driving into town on a cold January day, she spied a chicken in a roadside ditch.
Quickly realizing the bird would not survive the wintry weather for very long, Jones took in the fowl, an apparent escapee from a truck headed to a slaughterhouse, and the Eastern Shore Sanctuary and Education Center in Princess Anne was born.
More than six years later, Jones is still taking in chickens at the sanctuary — including broiler chickens, egg factory hens, former fighting cocks and unwanted Easter peeps.
Remembering that fateful day, Jones said, “Our first thought was to say, ‘Good for you! You got away!'” The Delmarva Peninsula is home to many poultry farms, including the well-known Purdue farm in Salisbury.
“We called her by my grandmother’s name until he started crowing,” Jones said. Moselle became Viktor Frankl, named after the concentration camp survivor.
The population has significantly grown since then, and now hovers between 150 and 200.
The sanctuary usually sees an influx of fuzzy chicks right after Easter, from parents “who try to get rid of the chicks that someone has given their children,” Jones explained.
“People get it in their heads that chicks are cute . . . of course what happens is the birds grow up,” she said.
“It’s never OK to give an animal as a gift on a holiday,” she added.
Another crop of unwanted Easter chickens usually arrives in the summer, once the birds have matured and the realities of housing a hen — or a crowing rooster — become apparent. One common problem: Chickens like to be outdoors, which can cause problems for neighbors and zoning regulations.
Unwanted birds and rabbits often also make their way to the Montgomery County Humane Society.
“In June we experienced a large influx of chickens. Their feathers have already molted, they’re not as cute anymore,” said Ashley Owen, director of humane education and public relations at the society.
Chickens who end up with Jones spend their days roaming the few acres of land the sanctuary sits on. Most sleep in barns and wander outside during the day. Some birds go feral, and eschewing the barn, sleep in the trees instead.
“Our particular facility is . . . set up for the comfort of the birds,” Jones explained.
Viktor Frankl had about a year and a half to roam before he was killed by heat stroke in 2001. But Jones knows his spirit lives on.
The homage to him on the center’s Web site says, “We still feel his spirit hovering over the chicken yard, making sure that everyone is OK.”
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