I felt guilty, too, eating
her eggs right in front of her. Hope she didn’t recognize them without their
shell.
I have two hens that
I turn loose each morning into the back yard . Upon opening their enclosure,
they spring from their coop, happy as kids slipping down a water slide and
splashing into a pool. They dash out, circle the yard, picking and scratching.
If one finds a snail they run with their delicacy, telling the other one, they just can’t help themselves, that they found something wonderful.
Don’t tell my
grandson chickens love escargot, he would side with the snails.
Sunday I served bacon
and eggs for Neil and me, and since the day was perfect, warm and sunny, we ate
on the patio. One hen jumped into my lap. She’s the cuddly one, and will sit on
my lap while I pet her and sometimes goes to sleep. (And has never pooped on
me.) I’m momma, I guess.
I grew up with
chickens, but never saw them as pets. That’s the way it is on a farm. They were
a chore, and you know how kids are, they resent HAVING to do anything. I had to feed the chickens when I came home
from school, and one was often out of the chicken yard. Our dog, Silver, a Cocker Spaniel and
Australian shepherd mix—and a shepherd to the bone—loved chasing down loose
chickens. He would catch a chicken, hold it with his paws, then lick its face
until I got there and picked it up.
(Gosh, I remember Aunt Bee, in the #Andy
Griffith series, being so proud that she picked up a live chicken,)
I don’t expect you to
get a kick out of chickens; I never thought I would either. I used to tease at
my friend Betty who said a chicken was her favorite animal. Then I thought
chickens were an animal of little brain—probably are, but their brain serves
them well, and they have distinct personalities. (The other hen likes to hop onto
the arm of the chair beside me, or my shoulder, but doesn’t want to be cuddled.)
That is one advantage
of having animals as pets—seeing them as individuals with their own quirks and
likes, just like people. And they see you as part of their family.
I was motivated to
write about chickens when I read www.fresh-eggs-daily.com. Lisa, the writer of that blog, whose
exquisite pictures show the sort of farm one dreams about, said not everyone
will share your enthusiasm about chickens, just find people who do. I’m not
writing a blog about chickens, though---well, just this once.
Lisa’s herbs:
Somehow Lisa’s blog led to another one where a fellow passenger
on an airplane asked a lady why she looked so happy. She said she was looking
forward to going home to her ducks. He said, “I wish I had something at home
that brought such a smile to my face as your ducks do to yours.”
