No little kid should ever be allowed a small, defenseless duck, chick, or bunny for a pet. One of those four hundred pound tortoises would be a far better choice. It could protect itself and the kid couldn’t pick it up. Porcupines or crocodiles should be fine, too. They could probably hold their own against a four year old. Case in point, when I was four, Mother went to the farm supply store to get baby chicks to raise for the freezer. They came in a brown cardboard box with air holes. Naturally, I fell in love with the chicks and begged for one of my own. Thinking I would quickly lose interest, Mother had one put in a paper bag just for me.
As I sat on the backseat of the car with my chick, I took it out and admired it, putting its tiny, fluffy body next to my cheek. It was so sweet and smelled so chicky. Mother made me put it back in the bag, saying it needed to rest. Reluctantly, I set it to the side. We stopped by another store and Mother let me get some gum. I can’t imagine why she couldn’t predict the future. I was well-pleased with the situation since I usually never got two goodies in one day. I chomped the gum till my jaws were tired. As we headed home, Mother noticed I was getting sleepy. She told me, “Don’t swallow that gum. Just wrap it in the gum wrapper and drop it in one of the grocery bags in the back next to you.” I couldn’t find my gum wrapper, so I just dropped the wad of gum in the nearest bag, the one with the chick, and nodded off.
When we got home, I woke up and remembered my precious chickie. I opened the bag and found the chick, gum in his fluff. His tiny feet stuck to the bottom of the bag. When I pulled him out, gum ribbons stretched from the bag to his little feet. I wailed in dismay. Mother was disgusted and took the chick, cleaned the gum off the best she could, confiscated him and returned him to the troop of chicks as she’d intended from the beginning. I wanted to trade for one of the fresh, clean chicks, but Mother said, “NO!!!!!!” He suffered no real harm; just shared his gum with the other chicks till quite a few of them had combination chicken poop, dirt, and gummy fluff accessorized with tiny bits of biddy food. The gummy little chicks stuck together when they touched and sometimes had to struggle a bit to get apart. I was ashamed of my former friend as he scurried around the nastiest of all his little biddy friends. However, in a few days, once all the chicks feathered out, I couldn’t tell him from the rest. I was a little hurt he didn’t seem to have any special feelings for me, after all we’d been through together.
Reblogged this on Mother Hen Diaries and commented:
Oh my! Cutest chicky tale I’ve heard in forever – I simply MUST share it!
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Thanks so much. I have lots of chicken stories. I come from a long line of chicken lovers.
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Gahahahaha! You are killing me here, Linda! I’m literally rolling with laughter- MUST REBLOG THIS! Mother Hen
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Thanks. Please don’t send PETA after me. I was just an ignorant child.
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all four year olds are blissfully ignorant, bless ’em! Plus the chick should’ve known better… 😁
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I am dreading my chicken Karma.
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Remind me to tell about he nightmares I had after I stepped on a mouse… 😳😳😳
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Post it!
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Aye aye! Soon…
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I must admit, I felt sooo sorry for the little chick. Young children should get tortoises, as you say, not small sweet fuzzy animals that can get harmed by innocent negligence. You write your story so well!
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Thank you. I am glad the little guy was tough.
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Chickens apparently make good pets. There is a nursing home here in Australia that has instituted chicken therapy for the residents. They are all clucking happily together 🙂
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My grandma had all hers named. They followed her everywhere.
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I know of some like that too!
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Reblogged this on Nutsrok.
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This has transported me way back to the our chicken coops. Wow! I loved those tiny, fully warm chicks, that it was a struggle for my mother to kill any of them during the festive season.
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They were sweet!
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Totally!
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That story is priceless. 😀
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So glad you enjoyed!
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If your chick had become a Marlon Brando-type, gum-chewing, delinquent chicken, you’d really only have yourself to blame. 🙂
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Well, life for a chick is short. Could you blame her?
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Guess not when you put it like that. 🙂
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Does put a different face on it.
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Thanks.
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HaHA! Poor little chickie! 🙂
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Wow! Did your story ever bring back memories! My sister and I got baby chickens at Easter too. I never will forget when I was old enough to know the story of Jesus’s death, we awoke Easter morning to find both my sister’s and my baby chicken were dead. We were so amazed at what we thought was the symbolism of their dying on Easter. (Kind of got things backwards at 3 and 5 years old. LOL, We did get baby ducks later and they grew to be healthy and noisy. It seems that baby ducks have a better chance at survival than baby chickens. (Or maybe mother protected them better. lol)
I really enjoy your stories!! My grandmother was a country girl and taught me to love nature and farm life too. Keep up the good work!!
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Oh Lord! Were they resurrected three days later? It’s great for kids to grow up on the farm. No need for sex education, explaining death, and lots of other things. Kind of puts things in perspective.
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Oh yes. I meant to tell you I had the rare “privilege” of helping to pluck a chicken and I saw my grandpapa ring a hen’s neck and cut off the head of another at different times. This gave clear understanding of “running around like a chicken with its head cut off!” He was my country grandfather. I need to write a blog about how he and my grandmother met and lived on a farm! I loved them dearly. Such great memories.
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Fickle little chick – you share your treat and he forgets you 😄
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And after I shared my gum so generously.
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It’s all wrong – these little chicks need to show some loyalty 😁
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I am still hurting!
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Don’t be sad – once he had matured he possibly had pride of place as someone’s Sunday roast 😀
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It wouldn’t have been a long term relationship. He was destined for the pot!
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Ha! He who laughs last …….. 😄
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But I didn’t talk with my mouth full. That would have been rude.
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I literally laughed out loud! This is a priceless story!! 😃
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Thanks. I love it when people laugh out loud.
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You were a proper chick wrecker, weren’t you? 😀 😀 😀
You were the type of child I love because I can sent her home anytime.
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That would have been the safest place for me.
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😀 😀 😀 You really do kill me, Linda. Keep up the good work.
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Thanks. I have been out transplanting strawberries all day.
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Nice. Save me some when you pick your bounty?
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Come on over. Pulling a few everyday.
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I have a few baskets I can bring. Need any spares?
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Sure!
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That was trouble waiting to happen. ☺ Just curious…how long does it take from chick to freezer-worthy ??
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Six weeks. it’s an unbelievable amount of work on the big day.
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Wow…I had no idea it happened that fast. I can only imagine the work ! ☺
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Probably should post about that.
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You should post. The home my daughter recently bought has pens…the former owner had chickens, I think for the eggs ? She’s looking into it. ☺
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She might enjoy a few hens. They are good company. Somebody in my neighborhood has chickens. I love hearing the rooster crow.
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☺ Hens as good company…now that’s a thought-provoking statement. 💕
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Lol. Think of it this way. You should be happy he didn’t grow up with a grudge against you for gummimg him. Very funny though.
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Gumming sounds like a terrible crime when you say it like that!
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Aw, poor chick. I feel somewhat guilty that I laughed all the way through this post.
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Yeah, he got a bad deal.
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Hahaha! I bet he was so glad to get back with his siblings that he didn’t mind sticking to them on occasions.
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I suspect he didn’t love me at all.
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I’m so sorry about that but I don’t think he loved you. You put gum in his downy feathers. 😀 😀 😀
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He didn’t understand me!
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Yes, that is what it is. Poor little guy didn’t understand you. He probably really does miss you (if he’s still alive).
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