You Can't Pet a Chicken, Or Can You?

posted December 1, 2008
  by Christine Gable, Kiddie Chow

It all started when daughter expressed interest in incubating some chicken eggs this past spring as part of a science project. After carefully turning the eggs three times a day and making sure the incubator stayed at a constant temperature with water in the wells, it was one very exciting day when those chicks cracked out.

Those little peepers grew amazingly fast. And it was at about day six—right when we were getting ready to give them to our farmer-neighbor, that she mentioned that she might like to actually keep a couple. And since we also happened to have one “special needs chicken” that cracked out of the egg with an undeveloped sense of balance (and ended up not being able to walk properly), it wasn’t really such a stretch to see how we could make a home for a few more (healthy and hearty) chickens.

Daughter is the quintessential animal lover. She’s the one with her own cat, her own fish—and yes, you guessed it: now her own chickens.

One of the great things about chickens is they help feed us, their domestic-domicile keepers. For five months after growing, feeding, watering and yes—even building that A-frame chicken coop—it’s a daily delight to be able to gather the ultimate day’s surprise: eggs.

Don’t know if it’s all the hand-loving attention, the fresh-picked greens or the fresh sun and air, but these chickens started laying jumbo eggs just a couple weeks after the very first medium one (no pee wee-size starter eggs for these birds!) was found in the nesting box.

And I have to tell you: there’s no better way to get an appreciation for eggs than to get to know the very chickens that lay your eggs.

Every member of our family—not just daughter—has been amazed by these chickens. They have personality. They have appeal. They are entertaining. And they make us laugh.

Best of all, they’ve helped unite us as a family. We all find ourselves drawn up the hill at all hours to see what they’re up to. I look forward to checking them after breakfast when daughter heads up to feed, water and gather. She checks on ‘em multiple times each day—morning, afternoon, evening—to put them in the larger garden where they scritch, scratch, dig and run. They love greens, grass and apples. They enjoy seeds and corn. Finding a long-lost shrunken tomato in the garden is a thrill. Trash and scraps make their day.

They are petted, held and talked to. They are hand-fed and said goodnight to each night.

And those eggs? They have got to be the richest yellow-gold that we’ve ever seen.

Not only is it wonderful to have a pet that provides us with a gift of food, it is a gift to see the joy, integrity and responsibility that having chickens has provided for daughter. It can’t help but inspire thoughts of Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. And while we certainly haven’t—and aren’t planning to—grow, gather or eat all of our food locally or seasonally, having a connection to this source is powerful indeed.

Now that’s the incredible edible egg.

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