Years ago, when I was just a wee teen lad living with my dad, there was a chicken that used to hang around our yard. This lasted about a year.
No one knew where it came from but it didn't do much. It hung around the bushes a lot. It wouldn't let you approach it without clucking and running off. It even laid an egg towards the end of it's visit. We're not quite sure how it was impregnated to begin with considering there were no roosters around (that we knew of).
That winter it snowed and got really cold and the chicken just stood out there on one leg and weathered the storm. The next day it was gone and we never saw it again.
The egg never hatched.
Beautiful little story there. By the way, a chicken doesn't need to be impregnated to lay an egg, does it?
I had two chickens with my three ducks, one black and one brown. We referred to them as Black chick and Brown chick, as we did for our ducks, White Duck and Black Duck.
The black one died early on because a hawk swooped down and ate it. A sick side story to this was one day my dog got out and I went after her and while I was chasing her, I noticed something on the ground - a park of the black chicken's leg left behind from the hawk! I was hoping in my mind that my dog wouldn't go after to chew on it but because of my usual crappy luck, my dog went after it and started eating it! I had to pull out of her mouth and it was so gross. It was really tender and so when I pulled it out of my dog's mouth, the toes actually came apart.
The brown one, on the other hand, lived with us for nearly a year. It was a very friendly little chicken and would follow the ducks around everywhere. My mom really loved this chicken as the chicken was especially kind to her. My dog, unfortunately, couldn't stand the thing and would take every chance she had to chase her. One day, my dog actually caught her and ripped some skin off her neck, but the chicken lived and had a nasty cut. My mom was able to fix it using some kind of rubbing lotion and the chicken was healing up amazingly well and the skin actually looked normal. However more unfortunately, as soon as the chicken was well and good again, my dog managed to get out again and this time and bit the chicken's head off (which we could never find...)
. The worst part about this story, and I am telling the truth here, is that as soon as she died, dinner was ready... barbecued chicken. No it wasn't made from Brown Chick, but it was a very unpleasent dinner. My mom was really heartbroken.
