Thursday, August 07, 2008
The chicken story
When one talks in the past tense about pets that some consider food, people always ask what happened to them. Some even bluntly say "did you eat them?" Since I haven't blogged in foreversville, I owe myself a post. It's a cute story
I adopted the birds from The Princess of Poultry and the Duke of Dairy, a lovely couple living on a hillside in Oakland. They had a number of chickens and wanted to adopt some more (of different breeds.) They ordered the minimum sized order of chicks from the hatchery, kept the number they wanted and offered the rest for adoption in exchange for their cost ($7/hatchling).
As I was preparing to move to Boston, I realized that bringing the hens across the country and keeping them a harsh climate wasn't so nice. I contacted the aforementioned royalty and asked if they knew of a loving home for my two laying hens, including their own. They offered to give them a home in their roost. After polite questioning from me, they told me that all of their hens live out the rest of their days at their home rather than becoming food.
They were so nice when I came to deliver the ladies, almost to the point of consoling. They offered to provide updates or photos upon request. They even offered to let me take them back tend them again, wherever or whenever I chose to do so.
I miss those chickens, I miss their sounds, their beautiful plumage, their curious ways and the comforting eggs.
I adopted the birds from The Princess of Poultry and the Duke of Dairy, a lovely couple living on a hillside in Oakland. They had a number of chickens and wanted to adopt some more (of different breeds.) They ordered the minimum sized order of chicks from the hatchery, kept the number they wanted and offered the rest for adoption in exchange for their cost ($7/hatchling).
As I was preparing to move to Boston, I realized that bringing the hens across the country and keeping them a harsh climate wasn't so nice. I contacted the aforementioned royalty and asked if they knew of a loving home for my two laying hens, including their own. They offered to give them a home in their roost. After polite questioning from me, they told me that all of their hens live out the rest of their days at their home rather than becoming food.
They were so nice when I came to deliver the ladies, almost to the point of consoling. They offered to provide updates or photos upon request. They even offered to let me take them back tend them again, wherever or whenever I chose to do so.
I miss those chickens, I miss their sounds, their beautiful plumage, their curious ways and the comforting eggs.
