“Man’s inhumanity to man” Robbie Burns
Spring was here. The farm hummed with new life including newly hatched chicks. Dad arrived at the back door cradling a little chick, about 3 days old. The mother hen had hidden her nest, and the brood was just discovered. “He’s damaged,” said Dad, “he drags one wing. I’ll have to destroy him but I feel badly, the little guy is so game!”
The chick looked up at us and chirped, and of course, the battle was won. A pen was built in the house yard, hand feeding and cuddling by all of us — talk about bonding! Dad still worried, saying “This won’t work. Chickens do not accept anything that is different” – but we did not want to listen.
Charlie, so he was named, grew quickly as chickens do. Well fed, well loved, well exercised chasing after Doris and myself – all the while dragging one wing. When we called he came, answering as he did. The family chicken flock was “free range” before the term was known. Sometimes they would be right outside of the house yard fence. Charlie would press against the wire fencing of his pen and call to them, with no apparent response in return. Continue reading →
