I Talk to My Chickens

Jodi Decker

About 5 years ago, I got interested in having backyard chickens. I bought a few books, my husband built a coop, and off we went. My motive was simply to raise my own eggs. I figured the eggs would be fresher, certainly, and more organic. Additionally, it seemed like a fun hobby.

My “flock” was small—usually 4 to 5 chickens. Now, keep in mind, there were no roosters in the bunch! Neighbors don’t take too well to roosters waking them up at the crack of dawn. Heck, I don’t take too well to being woken up at the crack of dawn. Chickens, in general, will let you know when to feed them, by squawking loudly and insistently in the morning, non-stop. They are loud customers.

So, what is the difference between a chicken that’s a pet, vs. a chicken that’s not a pet? Well, frankly, I don’t eat my chickens. Would you eat your cat or dog? I do eat their eggs, though. Also, my chickens have names. The current flock consists of: Fugly, Piggy, Red, and Speckles. While they tend to come running whenever they see a human (translation: food supplier), I do believe they know their names, as I can call one of the stragglers and they come running.

Chickens also have distinct personalities. Yes, just like people. Fugly is sweet and dainty. Piggy is, well, a pig. She is the first to come running for breakfast as soon as she hears me, and she will hog the food from all the other chickens, even doing body blocks to keep them away. Red is the typical big red hen you see in all the children’s stories. She seems elegant, but is a very cooperative egg layer. Speckles is a little speckled hen who is very sneaky, perfecting the art of laying her eggs in the neighbor’s yard, in order to avoid detection. In fact, we have found chicken eggs laid anywhere but the coop. It might be inside the wood burning stove, on top of the compost, or behind and under the most difficult places to access. I have bordered up more secret egg laying places than abandoned houses. I think they revel in trying to outsmart me. The fun part is that every day is an Easter egg hunt in my own backyard.

It’s hard not to give chickens human personality traits. Selfishness and greed seem to be big ones. No matter where you put the feed, they fight over it. No matter how far you spread the feed, they have to run and see what the other chicken might be getting that they aren’t. It always reminds me of the grass being greener in your neighbor’s yard.

Of course, we’ve all heard of pecking order. There is definitely a head honcho in chicken world, and they rule the roost. That means when she squawks or pecks, the others defer immediately. These head chickens do not suffer fools gladly, and sometimes they even try to be the boss of me, which is literally like biting the hand that feeds you. They do seem to understand commands, too. When they sneak around the side of the house to snack on the cat food, I loudly shout, “no!” or “bad chickens!” and they know to flee immediately. At times it feels like I’m chastising toddlers. Speaking of cats, you would think they wouldn’t be afraid of the chickens. Nope. The cats quickly slink off when the chickens show up, as the cats have realized that they can’t take these chickens down and would be the losers in that skirmish… ‘fraidy cats. Sometimes they all seem at peace with one another, and you can spy a cat sitting or lazing around next to a content chicken.

Chickens love treats, and one they gobble up readily is leftover spaghetti noodles. I have a hunch they think the noodles are white worms. They are excellent at doing pest control, and it’s particularly funny when one of them finds a bug in the yard, grabs it, then runs gleefully around the backyard trying to eat on the run, so her chicken sisters don’t steal it. It’s like a chicken steal the flag game. They love scraps, so they help us with the dish duty. What they can’t eat are avocados and chocolate, which always begs the question - who would feed those to their chickens? One chicken book advised to not give them beer, either. It seems that a drunk chicken probably can’t cross the road. Of course, you can’t talk about chickens without mentioning the eggs. Their fresh eggs are delicious. There is definitely a more robust flavor from a fresh egg, a darker yolk, and if you find the egg very soon after it’s laid, it sits warmly in your hand—a very lovely feeling. I remember the first time a chicken laid an egg, I happily declared myself a chicken grandmother, I was that proud! When a chicken lays an egg, they typically do an “egg song,” bragging to everyone in the nearby vicinity about their egg-laying prowess. They even “egg each other on,” announcing the arrival of the other chicken’s eggs. There are some who theorize this behavior is actually to warn off predators, but that seems like it would do the exact opposite, as it’s like a grand announcement.

Another interesting factoid about my chickens is they roost in the trees. This surprised me at first, until I found out that chickens were originally jungle fowl. Before coops existed, and they became domesticated, they flew up into the trees for safety at night. Yes, it’s a myth that chickens can’t fly. In fact, they can fly short distances, including up into trees. When they fly down in the mornings, it sounds like the whish and whirr of a mini-helicopter coming in for a landing. I also discovered that at sunset, they sit in the trees and make a soft purring noise…. perhaps a lullaby to lure them all to sleep.

There are so many expressions and metaphors that chickens have given us that have entered our daily vocabulary. Someone who’s afraid is labeled a chicken, they have chickened out, or they’re chicken-hearted. We talk about a pecking order in families or at work. Smart people are called egg heads. We egg each other on to victory. We claw our way to the top. We can crow about our successes. We can be madder than a wet hen. Women can have a hen fight. When we aren’t prepared, we wing it. When we’ve said or done something embarrassing, we’ve laid an egg. Chickens have been the subject of lots of fairy tales, stories, books, and movies. You can even do the chicken dance. More than all that, chickens make for wonderful pets. Even better, they are pets with (food) benefits, which means they are productive. They are fun, they are interesting, and they might just be closer to humans than we give them credit for.◆◆◆

About The Author

Jodi Decker is a college teacher, family historian, and content writer for FB page Seven Years Insane. She is a contributing writer to the book Poems From the Asylum, the true story of her grandmother’s 7-year stay in an insane asylum. ◆ ◆ ◆