OK, I promised you a blog about the Key West chickens – sometimes referred to as “Gypsy Chickens”.  Didn’t think it would be so soon, did you?  Neither did I.  Blame it on creative enthusiasm.  I’m on a roll.

Awhile back, we had a newlywed bride that came to the office at The Tropical Inn, almost in tears.  She had planned the perfect honeymoon, choosing our most private accommodation, the Pineapple Hideaway.  But she wasn’t happy.

Never mind the rose petals on the bed, the chilled champagne in the bucket, and chocolate-dipped strawberries awaiting her arrival.   Never mind the romantic private patio garden with Jacuzzi-for-two under the stars.  Never mind, for crying out loud, the excitement of being a newlywed!

What she hadn’t planned on were the chickens (specifically, the roosters).  They had awakened her and her new husband each morning at some hour before they planned to be up.  And she considered that decidedly un-romantic.

It’s estimated that there are 2,000-3,000 chickens roaming this little two-by-four spit of coral rock that we call home. I can only wonder how she missed that fact when planning what one would presume to be the most important vacation of her life.  I mean, aren’t brides all about detail?  Didn’t that fact give rise to the term, “Bridezilla”, into which they transform when all things don’t go exactly as choreographed?

How did she miss this little bit of information?

Anyway …  about the chickens.  Ever visited other Caribbean islands, where not only chickens — but dogs, goats, and other assorted livestock — run wild?  Don’t know about you, but my first experience with that, I considered to be part of the local color … the stuff you travel to experience.   “You won’t see that back in Peoria”, as we are fond of saying.

There is no denying that tourism — the major industry of Key West — has benefited from this funky bit of island culture.  The chickens have become iconic – another of the many attractions in Key West.  In fact, of all the restaurants in Key West, one in particular – Blue Heaven — has made the chickens a decided draw.  There, they roost in the spreading branches of almond and Spanish lime trees over the tables during dinner and peck away under them for fallen morsels at breakfast.

Today’s Gypsy Chickens are descendants of domestic fowl brought over  the high seas by settlers in the 1800’s.  Rumor has it that theirs is a heritage of prize fighting game cocks.  Or maybe their lineage can be traced to simple backyard coops, where they were kept for eggs and an occasional Sunday dinner.

Whatever their origin, these scrappy critters are completely self-sufficient — and amazingly streetwise (NEVER have I seen one that has met their demise there!).  Some consider them an invasive species, feasting on indigenous lizards as they forage through lovingly nurtured gardens.  Others recognize the role they play in keeping the local insect population under control.

Over the years, their population has expanded, and in 2004, they became the subject of controversy bordering on war between those who consider the birds a part of Key West’s historic character and those who view them as a nuisance and just plain want them gone.  In a move that might be called an “only in Key West” solution, the city hired a local man to serve as “official chicken catcher”.  He was to capture and deport the birds to a free-range farm on the mainland. Amid speculation that the birds were secretly being killed, local pro-chicken factions tampered with traps and otherwise interfered with the round-up.  The chicken-catcher position was soon dissolved.

This saga brings to mind another bit of local color:  while you are here, and you get a craving for some really great fried chicken (not feral, of course), do what the locals do (heads up — insider tip coming!):  head for the nearest Dion’s gas station.  Yes, gas station.

Really.  That’s where you will find the best, lip-smacking, eat-it-outta-the-bag-on-your-way-home chicken.  This stuff would bring tears to the eyes of that white-haired, soul-patched, Kentucky gentleman who made “finger lickin’ good” a catch phrase.

Trust me here …  when in Key West, get your chicken fix at Dion’s.

Hmm.  That was a little disjointed train of associative thought. Whatever.

We love the Key West chickens.  Some don’t.  Sorry they don’t get it.