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We have a lot of chickens on our farm.  A lot.  Like, around 30.  Now, this number includes 17 chicks, and we also lose a few chicks during their short childhood.  Things happen: hawks; raccoons; jealous, murderous hens…

Yes, it’s true.  Having chickens is a soap opera.  Who knew they were so dramatic??  And human?? 

We’re a progressive, open-minded farm.  We have a single father who raised his dead lover’s child to adulthood.  Said child turned out to be another rooster and abused his adopted father until he was injured in a little accident we don’t talk about.  (Trust me.)  Now he just hops around on one leg…

We also have a couple of hens who are co-parenting three chicks.  Apparently, they didn’t know whose eggs were in the nest, so they took turns sitting on the eggs, sometimes even sitting together.  Now they are one big happy family, except for the occasional arguments over how to raise their children.  You know how women are – they always think they are better mothers than anyone else.

There’s also Blondie, our favorite.  She’s our single mother who can’t afford birth control – 18 chicks hatched in one day!  She’s down to 14 now, but they are big and healthy and about to leave the nest.  She could teach some humans about raising children.

The chickens are fascinating.  Roosters in regular cock fights, hens chasing each other away from the best worms, harassed mothers trying to get some alone time away from her ever-chirping chicks.  Sounds like a Lifetime movie.   Yes, I think they just might be human after all.