When Stephen, my 5 years old grandson proudly handed me a shoe box with a grin and mumbled "Happy birthday, Nanna", I thought I was getting something alive and that worried me. I have enough dogs and cats to manage and anymore would be verging on neighbour references of that crazy old woman with all those cats and dogs.
Never, not in a thousand years, would I have expected a chicken. A chicken! You have to be kidding me! I looked at my daughter with a quick flash of frustration and she responded with a sheepish shrug, "Stephen wanted to give you a chicken. He wouldn't take no for an answer." I was left wondering about my daughters parenting skills and then feigned my pleasure as best I could with a big hug and thank you. I felt terribly guilty as I started to think about how to get rid of the chicken without hurting a little boys feelings.
Birthday complete and family gone, it was just me and the chicken (and some curious dogs and even more curious cats that had a devilish look in their eyes). Chicken could be dinner and not mine. Yes, I admit, I did consider the thought of cat prey - for a split second. But as the night went on and I heard the 'cheep cheep' in a shoe box I knew I had to find out more about chickens - at least what to feed it and how to look after it until I came up with a plan to say goodbye. So I went to the net and started researching.
Just like receiving a chicken from a 5 year old, what I learnt about chickens surprised me. I found out that these fowl are not just chickens...they have qualities I could never have imagined. I decided to make a go of keeping the chicken and I took the plunge of getting a chicken pen and a few more adult birds. I had a flock within two weeks and grandson Stephen was over the moon. I learnt more about keeping chickens in two weeks then I ever thought possible. I had 4 books and endless notes. I became a chicken expert! I told myself that this was for little Stephen but, in truth, as time went on, it became about me and MY chickens.
It wasn't smooth sailing, I have to tell you - I had run-ins with the local council about having livestock in a suburban area - important that you check that out, by the way - before you get the chickens! They eventually gave me the green light and I was well into the chicken mission.
Raising chickens as pets is fascinating. Chickens are easily tamed if time is spent handling them. In fact, chickens enjoy being stroked. You will also be surprised at their intelligence. Chickens can recognize up to 100 other chickens by their facial features and have over 30 different vocalizations to communicate with each other. People, myself included, who have kept chickens discover that every chicken has its own personality, just as dogs and cats do and I can attest to that. They respond to you when you call their name and ask for treats, like any other pet. Stephens' chicken is named Nemo (yes, I know that's a fish - but that's his favourite character) and Nemo knows its name.
Ok, so I do not eat chicken anymore - that's just a personal choice - you cannot connect with chickens and then eat them...well, I certainly cannot. My grandson threatened to buy another pet for my birthday. I politely refused and warned my daughter with a fate unmentionable should he arrive with anything that breathes. Nowadays, I think I might be known as that crazy old woman with all those cats and dogs and chickens. In fact I did overhear one of Stephens friends refer to me as the chicken lady to his mother.
Keeping chickens as pets is a wonderful past time and the bonus are the fresh organic eggs I get...oh, and the well-maintained back yard - but I will get to that another time...
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