I moved off the farm when I was thirteen but my time on the farm had deeply impacted my life. I felt like an island girl and more deeply a farm girl to my core. We moved hours away back to town and I had to leave all my animals behind. I missed them deeply.
One of the summers after I had moved away my grandfather called me up and told me he needed my help. My grandpa was involved with a Museum that had live animals throughout the summer and that summer one of the mother chickens had gotten into some rat poison and died. By the time he called me there were two chicks left. I immediately went to the rescue. By the end of the day I had two tiny chickens in a cardboard box in my small bedroom in my house in town and I was their mother. I named them Spock and Carlos. My grandpa got a heat lamp for me from his basement and my mom got the box. We got some hay and sawdust from the museum and my heart was happy again. I mothered those babies with all I had, and even if they felt a little bewildered they adopted me as their mother without much protest. I knew all the sounds to teach them. We had small back yard and my mom had planted a garden so I spent many hours out there teaching them how to hide if a big bird was coming and how to scratch for bugs and take dust baths.
I am totally serious ~ I really did this ~ and I was so happy. Those birds came on field trips to my grandparent's who lived half and hour away and spent time in their garden as well. When Spock and Carlos were old enough I had to say a reluctant goodbye, but they were jumping out of their box and too energetic for my bedroom in town. They went back to the museum ~ happy healthy roosters ~ and enjoyed their lives there. It was a bright spot for me in a time where I spent hours doing homework and missing the freedom I had enjoyed on our farm. I seriously miss having chickens so much. It has been years and years now but I still miss them and one day I WILL have some again. I wont give up that dream :)
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