Affable and graced with a ready laugh, Tropper retains a trace of his fashion past in his close-cropped and carefully trimmed beard. The same is true of Tuomey, who wears rubber boots and shorts with a city slicker's aplomb. Perhaps the most striking element to emerge in such a ramble is the enthusiasm Tropper and Tuomey have for chickens, which they imbue with qualities not usually attributed to the birds. For instance, intelligence. Moreover, chickens are compulsive gossips, he asserts, passing along information to each other through clucks and squawks.
Chickens communicate big time.
Moreover, he has owned birds that would run to greet him when they saw him coming, he says. Gesturing around the sheds and coops where chickens saunter in and out, Tropper emphasizes his belief in the free-range concept, the idea that chickens allowed to roam and peck at will produce tastier and, perhaps, healthier eggs. Tropper doesn't know exactly why he has this thing about chickens. But he remembers being fascinated when he saw a chicken hatch when he was a child. Then there's the family connection.