I love chickens.
The woman I bought my horse from had chickens, and I ended up spending a lot of time taking care of them to work off my board. (That's a whole other story). I had never been around chickens before. Every Easter, from grade one to grade four, a cage of chicks would be brought to my school and each kid got to hold one for a few minutes (mine always fell asleep and I was very proud of my superior chick-holding abilities), but other than that, I'd never thought much about chickens.
They're amazing. The magic of finding eggs, in the coop or hidden around the yard by more paranoid hens, and then eating those eggs you found. I chose a chicken to be 'mine', unofficially. I carried her around, and she would peck bugs out of the air for me. I kept myself bug-free, and I lifted her up to a whole new strata of bugs, so we were both happy.
She had several different groups of chickens, each with its own coop. She'd keep them in their coop a few days so they'd know it was home. We thought one of the coops only had one rooster...until we let them all out of the coop. All of a sudden, one of the 'hens' started crowing, strutting around, showing off. He'd been pretending to be a hen while he was stuck in the coop with another rooster, but now he was free to express his cocky self. He decided to move in with a group of hens who didn't have a rooster yet, and we let him be.
Also, Easter! Easter is one of my, and my wife's, favourite holidays. It doesn't have the pressure and family expectations of Christmas, so we can usually spend it however we'd like. My wife always buys a bunch of secret candy and hides it for me because I am really just several two-year-olds in a grown-up suit and all of them are completely spoiled.
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