I’ve been fortunate, in that, I have never lost a chicken. I have, however, adopted birds that have been dumped and found in the woods. That’s how I got my first rooster, a Japanese bantam, who was found at the side of the road.
What follows are a few tales of finding ‘extra’ chickens – a situation that many of us would be happy to deal with. Thrown into the mix are a story of a determined broody hen and another of an adopted peahen.
My hen thought she’d hatch some eggs in January. She got buried under a 2’ snowdrift. I think the eggs are still good after packing straw around her prior to the storm. I had to dig her out so she can continue to amaze and thrive! – Martha Temple
Yesterday a neighbour came over and said, “I think your chicken is in our backyard, but it flew over the fence and I lost sight of it”. I went and told my wife and she came out to help look for the hen. They cornered her on a porch and were able to catch her. Problem is, it is not our chicken we don’t have any Leghorns. And as far as I know nobody in our neighbourhood has chickens, but us. But we put up an ad on the neighbourhood group along with pictures. So far, no takers. She doesn’t seem very comfortable around people and was very hungry when we put her in with ours. So it looks like we now have an extra chicken. We have named her Freebird and she graced us with an egg this morning. – Walt Salpsed
My husband and I were driving to Walmart and as we passed by Tractor Supply I talked about wanting more chickens. He told me “not right now and to wait until the panic buying goes down”. As we pulled into the Walmart parking lot I saw something big digging around in the mulch. It was a hen with nine chicks. Of course, I made my husband pull over so we could get them. After 30 minutes of chasing them around (also an emergency purchase of a cat carrier to put them in) we were without our groceries but I got more chickens like I asked for. – Unknown
Long story short. A peahen moved into our yard this past August during a monsoon storm. She hasn’t left. No one has claimed her. I’ve called every bird rescue, Game and Fish, and told every time, “It’s someone’s missing pet”. Posted in NextDoor app. Needless to say, we are now privileged to take care of her. She is Becky with the good hair. It’s still odd and wonderful to see her spying on us through the window. Every sunset she makes her way into our huge tree, settles for down the night and at sunrise, wakes up and repeats the day. I’ve learned more about peahens than I ever thought I’d need. Life is interesting! – View From My Window
I did a headcount today and realized my favourite chicken had disappeared so I walked my 1/4 acre property three times in the pouring UK rain when it was pitch black at 7:45pm. I couldn’t find any evidence of a fight. I gave her sisters a good telling off for “abandoning your sister while you all perched on judgment tree” when I heard a chirp. I checked the hut and had the urge to look up. How did my hen get 6′ off the ground to roost on a 8’ tall hut? I had to convince/argue with her to get on a plank of wood so I could get her inside the coop where it was dry and warmer. She didn’t make it easy and since I’m 5’5 I didn’t have much luck at first. I finally caught her and forced her to cuddle with me to settle my nervous heart. I’ll admit she cussed me out in clucks. Her sisters faced my judgment when I helped her perch. – Anonymous
Waking toward the sun, crowning the hilltop, pink across the Campbell Reservoir I gazed with wonder at the craggy mountains we had just exited. Carl and I had no idea what the day ahead would hold for us.
“WHAT IS THAT?” Carl was shouting and pointing out my window. A quick head rotation gave me a seconds’ view of a flock of chickens in an old timbercut. Finding a safe turning spot, Carl took us back up the highway and into the cut. Sure enough. Chickens. More than thirty of them. Mostly Buff Orpingtons and a few White Leghorns. Poor ladies had been dumped there in the bush to die. Puffed against the morning chill, they came towards us hoping for their breakfast. How helpless we felt! I even briefly considered whether if we put the RV step out, we could lure them in with sunflower seeds and oats. But then what? Chicken shit and feathers everywhere, that’s what.
Plan B: I knew that there was a Facebook group for the area but we had no cell service. We took their photo, forgot to check the mileage and while I composed the post, Carl drove to where our phone pinged. Within half an hour, dear decent folks were asking for directions, volunteering to re-home chickens and voicing their outrage at the cruelty of abandoning domestic birds. By the time we could return to the site, a nice fellow named Brad was there gathering the flock with a tin of feed. He had already caught one bird and, then, he and Carl caught two more. Another kind soul, told us he saw the chickens, rushed into town, bought feed, drove back out and fed the hungry birds.
It turned out that my lack of exact directions had sent people off on a wild goose chase. While we stood surrounded by birds, and discussing the route Brad took to find them, a red pickup pulled in. “There they are,” called a woman as she walked down to us. These were the chicken experts – people who already owned birds. They told us that they would be easier to catch in the late afternoon when they settle down to roost. Brad went off for a fishing net and with a final “Thank you” to the rescuers, we headed off ourselves. And yes, I am glad Carl talked me out of turning the RV into a chicken house.
Thank you to everyone who cared enough to help these chickens. I just heard from Brad that all the chooks have been captured. “We got them all, it was an endeavour. I brought three fish nets, which really helped. Two college girls that were just on a drive to see mountains stopped in and were a huge help netting and gathering them.” A fellow took seven hens, someone else took six and the couple in the red pickup got 25 or so. They have a farm so went to a good home. The kindness so many showed cancels the cruelty of the person who dumped them. – Catherine Cummins
Thanks to everyone who shared their stories and photos.
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“Tales of survival, sass, and second chances.”
Bitchin' Chickens 
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