I’m often curious to hear how some folks speak of chickens as though they aren’t sentient beings. We refer to avian species, and chickens in particular, as having bird brains, equating them with stupidity. I don’t think birds have the same range of emotions or the capacity of comprehension in the same way as ours, but I also don’t believe that they are devoid of attachments and feelings.
Despite chickens being the most widespread bird species on the planet – numbering 19 billion – most people see them as sources of food and not complex animals sharing many traits with their wild cousins. A scan of the scientific literature on chicken cognition and behavior will disappoint you as it’s narrowly focused on their management and welfare solely based on their productivity and usefulness as producers of meat and eggs.
Why do we feel the need to elevate our species and ascribe to us superior attributes over all other living things? I happen to think that, despite our intelligence and potential, we’re not the centre of the universe and we’d learn a lot more about whom we shared the planet with if we weren’t so egocentric. Having pets – cats and dogs – does give you some insight into the emotional life of other beings, but if you watch your flock closely, and over time, I think you’d agree that chickens have feelings too.
Here are some heartwarming stories of chicken friendships.
I wanted to share a bittersweet moment. My pet tom turkey died in the yard this evening. He and my older Salmon Faverolle, Olivia, had been raised together and were basically best bird friends. She loved to sleep under his butt any chance she could get and they would always hang out together all day, every day. I showed her his body earlier and when I came out to move him I found her lying right up against him. I let her have her time with him and only moved him once she got up and went to bed.
Logically, I know she probably just thought he was sleeping and wanted to sit by him. I’ve never seen her sleeping by his head before, she normally slept under his butt while he was standing outside during the day. They also didn’t sleep together at night. Those details make me want to believe she was mourning a little bit. It was sweet to see. I’m glad she got to say goodbye to her friend. – Gabriella Lemke
“Hey, mom? Why do we keep the old blind rooster around?”
We have had Sir, as in, “Excuse me, Sir?” for a few years before he became blind. Our previous rooster had unfortunately died protecting his flock from the neighbour’s dog.
This guy shows up the next day as if to say, “I am here to interview for the job.”
I am sorry, but don’t you know what happened to the last guy?
“Yes, but I heard about the great benefits…you know, all the chicks!”
Oh, so you only care about chasing hens!
“Well that is great, too, but seriously, I am here for the chicks.”
We don’t have any chicks, but you’re welcome to hang out as long as you like as long as you behave yourself.
So Sir hangs around and sure, he has some girlfriends, but he is a true gentleman giving them the best scraps, calling when fresh water is filled, and showing the hens where the best nesting spots are. The previously disinterested hens suddenly all go broody and we get the random surprise chicks. He seems to enjoy watching over the growing flock.
All was well until one day, I catch Sir hanging out in the middle of the backyard standing absolutely still. The hens are all hanging out pecking and chasing grasshoppers, and normally Sir would do a dance to woo the ladies, but not that day. I went outside to check on him when I realized that his eyes were swollen shut with bleeding scratches all over his face. Near him are some feathers, but all the ladies are accounted for, although some have that traumatized look on their faces and a few feathers missing; clearly he had defended his flock at the cost of his eyesight.
We treated his eyes as best we could and kept him in a pen with food and water; at first he lost lots of weight, but he regained his strength and started boldly learning to adapt. One of his sons, who he watched over as a chick, took on the duties of showing the hens where all the good food was and everything else his father taught him.
Sir had some adjustments to make, but he sticks close to home base and any new chicks have been babysat by Sir. In the photo, Sir has taken on babysitting responsibilities for a little orphaned chick (only survivor of a raccoon attack on mama and two other chicks). So tonight, when checking in to make sure everyone was secure I saw Sir not just sitting with the baby, but trying to emulate the sounds the mama hens make to let them know they are around. So, yeah, that is why we keep the old blind rooster around. – Matt Fixxit
We decided to let our Buff Orpington sit on her eggs and have some chicks when she became broody this time. Problem is, about six days into laying on her eggs our tiny little Kikikiri hen, Midget, went broody too. Now they’re both sitting on the same eggs. It’s weird because the Buff Orpington is putting her wing over Midget and they’re just going with it.- Jennifer Lopez
This is our chicken kitten, Teddi. Our chickens adopted her about two months ago. She was orphaned, bedraggled and starving. She had been eating chicken scratch which was causing her horrible stomach problems as you can imagine! We cleaned her up and began feeding her when we fed the chickens. In the meantime she figured out the auto door schedule for the run and the coop door inside the run. She’s been roosting with them at night ever since. Our rooster is especially protective of her. Today I went to feed them before bedtime and here she is, roosting outside with them. Teddi, the chicken kitten. – Annie Sutorius Sweeney
A month ago my new hen took in a bunch of my Cornish cross broiler chicks as her babies. They’ve now outgrown her wings, but most of them still try to tuck themselves under her whenever possible. She still looks out for all 35+ of them and they are never far from one another. They even pack themselves together on the coop floor every night.
Momma hen also chases away the dogs when they try to come too close to ‘her’ babies and she’s just the best hen ever. I currently have 16 eggs in the incubator to replace the Cornish after these are processed so she’ll have new babies. – Ashlynn Worley
Thanks to everyone who shared their stories and photos.
If you’ve got a story to share drop me a line using the ‘contact’ button on my homepage.
Bitchin' Chickens 
0 comments on “My Chicken Story: Odd Friendships”