Through thick and thin (and even on my laziest days), each of my 20 chickens were always hard at work birthing eggs or displaying their unrivaled vocals. When nobody else was in the house, they were sure to make their presence known.
My family’s chicken journey started in 2021. For us, the egg came before the chicken.
My dad had always wanted pet chickens. During the pandemic, he convinced my mom of the “usefulness” of chickens — such as free, unlimited eggs (and no other reasons) — and was eventually able to kickstart our journey of raising chickens.
After buying a small incubator and a few fertilized eggs on eBay, we gradually grew more attached to the feathered friends. The first batch of 12 eggs we tried to incubate yielded two chickens. Lovingly named “Chicken 1” and “Chicken 2” after the order of their births, the two established an impeccable bond. As my dad’s incubation success rate gradually increased, our chicken family grew rapidly to a whopping 20 chickens!
Video by Nicole Lee
Five baby chickens, which had just hatched and must stay in the incubator for another 24 hours.
As they grew up, our two dogs — who were both just around one year old at the time — enjoyed watching them skedaddle around their chicken coop, which my dad had built out of nets and wood from Home Depot.
Photo by Nicole Lee
My two dogs, Odie and Io, peeking into the chicken coop.
Recently, however, we had to give away all of our chickens due to a lack of sufficient time to take care of them.
But it was not without regret. Dear chickens, I’ll never forget the moments we shared together, whether it was the first time you willingly walked onto the palms of my hands and pooped on them or the times I had to stay up late doing homework assignments or playing video games, you were always there at the break of dawn to remind me to go back to bed.
Photo: link // Photos by Nicole Lee
Caption: A collage of the chickens sitting together, being held, and standing in the chicken coop
I know we had our quarrels and disagreements. On the one or two occasions of your morning roars, I’d often wake up very disgruntled and wished there was a way for me to tell you to stop your calls. Sometimes, I’d even come out to the dinner table to find that one of your friends may have been turned into a fresh meal …
Even so, it was always fun to feed you as you pecked at the palm or my hand, and your persistent yet inevitable company was always appreciated. Although we no longer have the bandwidth to take care of you and your future children and I don’t know which farm you were given to, I hope you enjoy your time there and your newfound freedom to scream at the top of your lungs on a whim.
