Chicken Dreams: The Sacrament


She sat shivering on her roosting bar in the morning. The days of being a small chick in a warm bedroom with the morning light filtering in through gauzy curtains behind her, Rosie is now a grown bird laying eggs and spending most of her time outdoors in her run come rain, shine or frost.

She does not run to me at the end of the day or sit dreamily in my lap as I pet her soft feathers as often as she used to but I’m not sure exactly why. It’s as if she and I are acting as if something has changed, and it has. Our benefactor, little four year old Kyra has moved away and we miss her. Our sadness is creating a gap between us which we are struggling to cross. I attend to Rosie’s needs and the needs of her sweet flock mates but not…

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