My Chickens and I Need Therapy

July 25, 2015

Just put your ear to the ground and you’ll hear the boasts of the chicken lovers: “Oh, how I love my chickens!” “My Chickens are the best pet I’ve ever had.” “My girls are lap chickens, they can’t get enough love.”  “I’d do anything to keep my girls safe.”  The list goes on…

As I nod my head and pretend I know what they’re talking about, I am secretly thinking: “There’s. No. Way.”  They must all be lying.  My chickens run from me like I’ve got a butcher’s knife in my hand.  As soon as I come out doing my native chicken call, “Chickie Chickie Chickieeees”, they head for the far corner of their coop, screeching, “HERE SHE COMES, RUNNN!”.  

 Who me? No, I was definitely not about to eat your hydrangea.  Who me? No, I was definitely not about to eat your hydrangea. 

You name it, I’ve tried it.  A special colored toy that signals it’s time for bed, treats, goodies, a mating call, snuggling them, naming them, talking to them, reading to them (just kidding), spending quiet time with them. They still hate me, and honestly, I don’t like them that much either.  Maybe that’s our problem. 

I hope that in a few months I can look back on this post and laugh along with them…”Remember when we didn’t get along? I’m so glad we’re best friends now!”, because I want to experience what the chicken lovers experience.  I want lap chickens.  I want mite free chickens.  I want Lady Grey to stop clucking at me, and share a spot of tea with me.  Will this ever happen? 

Maybe I can admit, OSA is not going so well. Between some of the chickens falling into the mouth’s of prey, a slapped together coop, and a mite infestation, I am nearly ready to remove “chicken lady” from my professional title. 

The worst part about this, is that they love Greg. He is the one who didn’t want them, and similar to our French Cat, is the only one who they like. When I ask him what his secret is, he replies, “I just give them cuddles.” WELL I TRIED THAT AND IT DIDN’T WORK!

I have to say, that since I started writing this post, things have slightly improved, they don’t look at me like I’m an escaped chicken murderer anymore. Now the look they give me is more along the lines of, “you’re a weird human, and no we don’t want your cuddles.” So here’s my question for any chicken lovers out there: how did you get your chickens to love you back? 

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