Northwest Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
Otus the Head Cat
Chickens will continue to march in Bentonville.
Dear Otus,
Does the demise of our famous Pese A Que Tex-Mex Chicken House in Fayetteville mean that guy who marches the chickens is going to retire? I know he was a major supplier for the restaurant. — Benny Ventano,
Fayetteville
Dear Benny,
It was wholly a pleasure to hear from you and an additional pleasure to report that Lloyd Pullus has no plans to cease marching. Besides, the original Springdale restaurant location remains open.
He may earn his living as a chicken farmer, but Pullus still considers marching chickens his life’s passion.
Known as the “Pollo Pendenciero” since 1979, Pullus has wrangled the legendary flock that daily delights tourists and guests by clucking through the lobby of the Hamilton Executive Inn and Suites in Bentonville.
Chicken marching is in his blood.
“My granddaddy was the pollo pendenciero for the famous Missouri Row Hotel at Monte Ne Resort. Daddy was at the Apple Blossom Court over in Rogers. That was before they started catering to truckers and needed his coop area for semi parking.”
Pullus notes that his father and grandfather never marched more than a half dozen chickens. At the Hamilton, Pullus shepherds up to a dozen birds at a time. His are the last remaining marching chickens in the country.
The Hamilton, on Bentonville’s “Miracle Mile” of North Walton Boulevard, has been a favorite tourist stop since its extensive expansion and remodeling in 1986. Pullus believes his chickens have a lot to do with that.
“On Razorback game days, folks come from near and far to watch the chickens march,” he said. “We’ve had people stacked up as far back as the auto parts store with their cameras.”
On football weekends, all 352 of the Hamilton’s guest rooms are booked with fans. At other times, guests and executives of Wal-Mart and visitors to Crystal Bridges Museum of American Art keep the place packed.
“Them artsy museum types love to come over here and watch the chickens strut their stuff,” Pullus says.
The chickens, chosen and trained from among the thousands on Pullus’ farm off Puppy Creek Road just outside Lowell, make an appearance twice daily, at 11 a. m. and 5 p. m. Tourists know showtime is near when the guy in the Hamilton Chicken suit appears outside along the street.
When it comes time for the march, Pullus trades his overalls and plaid work shirt for his official Hamilton Pollo Pendenciero uniform (red blazer with gold epaulets, white shirt, chicken bolo tie, black pants and hip waders) and leads his charges from their Royal Chicken Palace, a marble and glass coop on the hotel’s roof, down eight floors in the glass elevator, across the courtyard to the lobby.
The chickens, squawking and flapping, enter on a red carpet from Darren’s Carpet King Center in Bethel Heights (“Carpeting Northwest Arkansas Over 40 Years”). Then the lobby intercom plays Bach’s “Thema all’Imitatio Gallina Cucca,” written to mimic the cackling of a hen.
The birds scratch around for the cameras for about 20 minutes before being shooed back to the elevator to the tune of Christian Friedvich Daniel Schubart’s “Die Henne” ( 1786). The entire process is repeated at 5 p.m. That’s a far trickier performance later in the year, according to Pullus.
“Chickens are a diurnal gallinaceous fowl,” he explains. “The sun sets early in winter and if you don’t get them birds back to the coop before dark, they’ll roost in the lobby and make an unholy mess.”
Pullus recalls the time one particularly stubborn bird became root-bound in the rack of pamphlets for area attractions. “She ruined the entire stack of stuff from Branson,” he said, laughing. “We had to take it all outside and hose it down.”
Pullus says the concept for the Hamilton marching chickens came from local hotelier Frank Schultz following a weekend hunting trip in the 1930s.
“Schultz and his buddies had been after the elusive free-range Ozark mountain hill chicken,” Pullus says. “It’s a crafty bird seldom seen outside its native hollers.”
Schultz never bagged his bird, but decided to introduce hill chickens to the lobby of his U.S. 71 Bide-a-Bit Motor Court (razed in 1962). The rest is history.
Until next time, Kalaka reminds you that flash photography is not allowed (it spooks the birds) and hotel guests get free chicken lips on their pillows with each night’s stay.