For these reasons and more it is quite impossible to figure that these amazingly complex, feathered bundles do not have minds, hearts and souls. Even though empirical science cannot prove that, and theoretical science would be obliged to dismiss it, there comes a point when you realize that chickens are not necessarily what many have assumed chickens to be, that is, providers of eggs and drumsticks and not much more.

          There comes a point at which you have to look at a chicken and wonder what other incorrect assumptions you’ve assimilated in your lifetime, and how far down you need to dig to turn over beliefs that have become stale and unappetizing, and maybe false. It isn’t so much a matter of shrugging away some of those things you have always known as much as it is opening the eyes of your mind to what gifts have been given you. It’s about the importance of what is around you.

          This is not to say that a chicken can eat every shred of lettuce you’ve ever planted, and can peck a hole, just one hole, in every nearly ripened tomato as you’ve patiently watched them all develop, and there can be no complaining. It is a chicken’s nature to forage, but there is nothing quite the same as fresh lettuce and sun-ripened tomatoes in a salad. Conflict exists.

          If you plant beautiful primroses and feel peace and beauty overcome you while you’re contemplating a particularly large and velveteen primrose, you will be startled if a giant yellow, scaled leg with a huge, flexible, tripod foot with claws suddenly enters your field of vision and rakes over the lovely blossom, leaving it shredded and strewn over the moist earth. There are dichotomies.

          There is always juxtaposition somewhere. The grace of every interaction is the dance performed by the positives and negatives on either side of the fulcrum, and this includes any knowledge that is gained and further enriched because the soul has grown. Perhaps normalcy is nothing more than the wavering, often fragile equilibrium hovering between two truths, a delicate primrose and soft clucking sounds nearby, tender lettuce leaves and a large tripod foot, or even Sarge and Son of Sarge.

          Meanwhile, experiencing life’s high points and low points can be exhausting, even though that’s how life is. Perhaps that is why living alongside chickens, seeing how complex they really are, and observing how they look after each other as they maintain the integrity of the flock is humbling. The chickens that accepted us into their lives had individual personalities, but the only chicken that wasn’t amiable was Son of Sarge who was definitely an anomaly. Sarge was treasured even more when we saw him beside Son of Sarge. A lot more.

          Probably one of the most precious perceptions is seeing how generous chickens are, quite simply by living. They remain happy and content with no animosity toward anybody or anything, as long as they are just allowed to exist. They don’t appear to harbor anger or grudges, and their moods seem to swing back into a contented, harmonious existence not long after they’ve been disturbed for some reason, as long as they are safe.

          This is easy to understand if the assumption is that chickens are not intelligent enough to know better, but when they allow you to live near them and wander in their midst for years, the thought that they are not intelligent in their own way doesn’t wash. It doesn’t take imagination to see how chickens live their lives. All you have to do is watch them.

          Not everyone likes chickens, just as not everyone enjoys the same activities, the same foods, the same books, the same videos or the same people. What a boring place the world would be if everybody liked the same things. There are those who will take issue with what is written here, but I suppose I’d say that it’s easy to be humbled by chickens, for instance when you attempt to chase them out of your garden. It’s amazing how quickly they can perform an about face and whisk past you, landing right back in that delectable row of snow peas they were enjoying before you arrived.

          Perhaps one of the many lessons to learn from chickens and their life style is to respect what you thought wouldn’t demand respect from you. Respect, even for chickens. Respect definitely for chickens.

          Long live the flock!”

Excerpt from:
The Secret Lives of Chickens or Tales from the Chickenyard and Beyond
Sunny Franson
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