Growing up on a farm my mother had chickens— but we never treated them as pets. They were simply part of farm life.
Gabriel and Olivia, however, are in love with their chickens. They sing to them, hold them, talk to them, and even let them eat right out of their hands. Throughout the day they go to the chicken pen and hang out with them.
As this week they are on vacation they asked me to check in on the chickens. Everything is automated—an electric door, automatic feeder, and water system—so all I had to do was make sure the chickens were okay.
The first time I opened the gate and stepped inside, they came running toward me, making the sweetest little sounds, almost like they were greeting me. Like cats, they circled my feet and gently pecked at my shoes. It made me realize how loved they must feel—so much so that they weren’t afraid of me at all.
Olivia had shown me how to pick one up, but instead I bent down and softly stroked them. To my surprise, they let me. I couldn’t help but laugh.
As I walked around their pen, they followed me everywhere. When I went to the food bowl—even though it was already full—they gathered around. When I moved to the water, they came along. Around the tree, across the pen—they stayed right with me the entire time.
Olivia says they “talk,” and honestly, I believe her. It felt like they were saying, “Hi, how are you? We miss you. Will you pick us up?”
There’s a new term people use—“henopause.” I may be well past that 40-year-old stage, but I have to admit… I completely understand it now.
And when I finally walked back to the gate to leave, they stood there, watching me go. I swear they looked sad to see me leave. It was absolutely adorable.
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