Freddy the Chicken Goes to the Vet

Mr. Newman

Turns out the two-and-a-half-year-old bird had a sprained ankle.

On a day when the cafeteria is serving chicken legs, I ran into math teacher Vicki Greenberg carrying a very-much-alive white chicken named Freddy, wrapped rather adorably in a blanket. Turns out the two-and-a-half-year-old bird had a sprained ankle, and they were headed to the vet in the Kroger shopping center just outside of Lovett's back gate.

According to Ms. Greenberg, Freddy had been through this before. The first time, the vet prescribed an anti-inflammatory and pain meds, and now she was hoping they'd figure out what to do long-term.

Freddy was resting so peacefully in Ms. Greenberg's arms that I asked her if Freddy was sweet. "They're all sweet," she said, referring to the other Lovett chickens. Then she told me that although Freddy is the smallest of them, she's the one in charge, literally at the top of the pecking order.

Hopefully, she'll be back pecking away quite soon.

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