Cluck of the Week

Something happens to you when you get chickens. You construct elaborate coops that you decorate with flowers and watering cans and signs as though what's living inside that structure is your sweet little granny and not a dirty creature that eats its own poop (and would pick through yours if you'd let it).

You bond with your little creatures. You give them names (like Maisy, Lulu, and Stella) and hunt down worms and grasshoppers to hand feed them because you love how they follow you around and flap up to meet you when your hand comes near. If you let them, your children will develop such a close bond with your chickens that you often find them doing crazy things you never thought you'd see (such as sitting half naked beside a chicken feeding it flowers).

And the worst thing you do? Is get more chickens. Because three isn't enough. So you agree to raise five more. In our case, the five new biddies are short-term visitors (that we can't name) who we'll show at the fair and then promptly give back for "harvesting." You can guess what that means.




But you take them because for those short 6 or 7 weeks, you can give them a little taste of freedom and health they'd never experience at the factory.

And, yes, you can expect lots more photos of children being weirdly comfortable with animals not meant to be pets. What else would you expect? Especially since, weeks and weeks ago, we brought home these little friends who've changed our entire perspective on ... pretty much everything.

(Yes, that is the same chicken as she's feeding in the first picture. Stella, our black star. Can you believe how fast she's grown?)

***This post is part of Wordful Wednesday and Wayback When-esday.***