My little sisters, Connie and Marilyn, raised their baby chick, Fluffy, in a cloth-lined box in the living room. He spent his nights in their room, going to sleep as soon as they covered his sweet, little head. He woke them early in the morning, peeping around looking for them. Cleaning up after him wasn’t really a big problem while he was a tiny chick. Fluffy spent his days with them, peeping and later clucking, right behind them.
As he got older, naturally he ate more, and made bigger messes, and was ushered outdoors. From then on , he longed for the warm times he’d shared with his “real family.” He ran to Connie and Marilyn as soon as they came outdoors, never leaving their sides. When they went in for meals or for the night, he hopped up the nearest window ledge and watched them mournfully. Thankfully, when his hormones kicked in, Fluffy noticed the lovely hens in our flock, and Connie and Marilyn were history. He didn’t even give them a look when they walked outdoors.
However, as Fluffy matured, he did suffer some social confusion. He quit yearning for the girl’s company, but he did not like them for them to ride Sugar, their horse, with a saddle. He had no problem with bareback riding, but when they saddled up to ride, he ran along beside Sugar, jumping up to attack the saddle. They had to run Sugar to get away from his crazed attacks.
. Daddy had a mixed-breed dog who was especially aggressive when hunting wild hogs, grabbing them by the ear and wrestling them to the ground. He had never behaved aggressively toward people, but Daddy was concerned about the possibility, so he kept Sutter penned in a big pen with a snug doghouse. He hung a heavy burlap bag over the open door to shield his dog from the cold and wet. Sutter loved his doghouse and lay proudly with only his head sticking out in wintery weather. One night in the spring, during a heavy thunderstorm, we heard howling from Sutter’s pen. Daddy checked on his fine dog and found that Fluffy had faced him off and stood proudly in the door, dry as dust, while Sutter stood crying in the rain. Daddy was disgusted and left them to work it out.
Gahahaha! Adorable… sounds like a cockerel, alright. They can be a little psycho sometimes. But poor Sutter… poor ol’ dawg. What a softie. :-)
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Small town kids, we had one experience with fluffy little chicks. When their hormones kicked in, they were kicked out…back to the farm from whence they came! I hope they lived their lives were as confidently and happily as Fluffy lived his!
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I grew up on a farm. They can get mean.
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All the love that Connie and Marilyn gave him made him confident : )
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I think he was a happy guy. Can’t speak for dog.
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Cute story! Sounds like Fluffy was a confident chicken.
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Fluffy never heard of self-image issues.
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He sounds like a character! :)
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What a cool chick! Smart and assertive guy!
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Animals are so much fun to know
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