Most folks can relate to viewing their pets – mostly dogs and cats – as family. Chickens are often relegated to the category of livestock or farm animals. It’s not until you actually spend time with them that you learn to see them as individuals with likes and dislikes, personalities, friendships and, dare say it, feelings. This post is dedicated to all our feathered friends who work their way into our hearts and spread some much needed love around us.
My mother lost a leg. And with it, it seemed she had lost her smile too. It happened two years ago, because of diabetes. Since then, she didn’t want to leave the house because she was ashamed of her prosthetic leg. She had gone from being a woman full of life – witty, brilliant, able to laugh even on the worst days – to someone who cried looking at that artificial leg, saying she felt like a broken object. Someone to pity.
I tried everything. I bought her new clothes, took her to support groups, told her a thousand times: “You’re still you” but nothing worked. She looked at that prosthetic as if it were a sentence. And I watched her fade a little more every day.
One night, while desperately searching for something that could make her smile, I came across an image of something as absurd as it was wonderful: a prosthetic crocheted cover shaped like a pink chicken thigh. With feathers, hilarious little details, it looked like it had come out of a cartoon. I laughed so hard I woke my husband because it was perfect. It was exactly the kind of fun, ridiculous thing my mother would have loved … before.
I contacted the person who had made it, telling her the whole story. She replied immediately. She’d also lost someone dear to her because of depression after an amputation. She had started creating prosthetic covers to help people find themselves again through laughter. When the chicken thigh arrived, I said nothing. I just handed it to her.
My mother looked at it. She understood. And she started to laugh. But not a polite, forced smile. A real, free laugh. The first in two years. She immediately put it on and began walking around the house making chicken noises, proudly calling herself “the limping chicken,” not with shame. Now she never takes it off. She shows it to everyone. Tells her story. Talks about her amputation without looking down. She is herself again.
And all thanks to an absurd, sweet, and powerful object, made by hands that understood that healing doesn’t just mean surviving, but learning to laugh again, even at yourself. – Alexa Moraes Silva
My great-grandmother is 93 and beginning to struggle with Alzheimer’s. Whenever we visit, the first thing she asks isn’t, “How are the triplets?” or “How are you guys doing?” Instead, it’s always, “How are the chickens?!” As a little girl, she raised and sold chicks, so chickens have always held a special place in her heart. Yesterday, we brought her a very special visitor and watching her face light up was absolutely priceless. Macaroni, the chicken, handled the four-hour drive wonderfully and brought so much joy to my great-grandmother and her friends at the care centre. Once a crazy chicken lady, always a crazy chicken lady. – Unknown
My older brother lives with us. He is developmentally and emotionally delayed and is also deaf. He moved in with me after our parents passed away from cancer. We spent most of our lives in Queens, NY , and now we live in Pennsylvania. Never in a million years did I think we’d end up having chickens. But these chickens have completely changed our lives. They light up his world and mine too. They give him a sense of purpose every day as he cares for them, and honestly, they all adore him. I’m amazed at how much this small flock has brought into our lives. – Unknown
Oh Thursday you tried to best me today and you came close. I was in quite a panic, but as a friend reminded me I still rocked it out – panicking while pivoting and handling everything.
Let me share a rundown of today.:
5:45am: get up (a little early) Get dressed/ready Start coffee
6ish: get chickens food/water ready. Wait, what’s this I find – moldy food in the food bin. (The bin that is kept in my kitchen; the bin that is almost empty) Few choice words may have been spoken whilst having a mini panic attack that my babies are going to get sick. Ok, let’s just go open the other bag. I have my feed on auto-ship – two bags every four weeks. These two bags were just delivered. WTF, second brand new bag is also scattered with mold. More mini panic attacks/choice words while I grab the food I use for Han to give the outdoor flock instead.
6:20: take food and water out and open up the coop. While flipping one of the waterers over the base comes off; water goes everywhere- the frozen water bottle I have in it flies out. So back in the house to refill it. Take it back out; feed Spinelli on the way back in and put out hummingbird feeder.
6:30: start a message chat with Chewy about my feed situation.Get Han up and get his stuff together. Finish Chewy chat – great CS refund being sent for both bags.
6:45: feed Han
7:30: My partner, Shawn’s getting up to learn that I need him to run to tractor supply for a bag of feed (go over the morning with him). Get my coffee and decide it’s doughnuts for breakfast.
7:55: clock in for work
9:39: hear crazy loud boom – turns out there was a wreck outside
9:30 pm: go out to close up coop and find a 3.5’ black snack heading in the coop. Scramble to get him out and relocated to the woods, which took about 20 minutes to catch him. Start to head back in and hear what sounds like fireworks only to see a tree top fall behind the coop.
I’m done with today. I’m going to finish snacking on these Oreos and take my butt to bed before anything else happens. I hope you all have a wonderful night and that your day has been uneventful compared to mine. – Sharra Hobbs
Photo credit: Karly Gable
Boo, my special needs hen has a sensitivity disorder and likes to be held, but petting seems to hurt her skin. She is excellent at communicating, and has always been emotionally intelligent. Last weekend, I was a bit tired. Just went through a wedding, got my flu vaccine, arthritis flared, etc. We had a big tree that my husband cut down, very exciting! I watched, then suddenly I thought I should lie down. I didn’t really know why, but I headed for the hammock.
As I lay back, Boo hit me in the chest. She was on me before I was even lying all the way down. She gripped onto my shirt with her claws right above my heart and cocked her head at me, which means please put your hands on me and hold me. I wrapped both hands around her and she stared directly in my eyes.
Right then I had an attack of my inappropriate sinus tachycardia (one of the many gifts from Covid). I have not had a big one of those for several months. Basically my heart starts beating at an inappropriate time, way too fast. My blood pressure also shoots up. So when it hit, I got an excruciating headache along with a feeling of extreme nausea while my heart pounded away.
Boo stared into my eyes the whole time, clutching onto my shirt. Thankfully these attacks melt away quickly, usually starting to subside within ten minutes or so. As my headache started to fade to something more tolerable, Boo stayed in position but turned to face away from me. She warned off any other birds that approached. She stayed right there until the headache and the nausea faded. She guarded me.Then she looked over her shoulder and hopped off my lap. Back to the chicken yard. It seems Boo is not only emotionally intelligent. She functions quite well as a service chicken!
Boo is an incredible example of how those with disabilities are not worthless. Far from it. Many have gifts that can’t even be imagined by others. When we expect nothing, sometimes that is all we see. But when we are willing to look from a different angle, sometimes we find angels. – Green Gables Farm
Thanks to everyone who shared their stories and photos. Featured photo credit: Alyssa Schwark
“For people who talk to their chickens (and admit it).”
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