As any new parent will tell you, there is a steep learning curve when new family members enter the house. This is certainly as true for Alan and me now that we’re caring for young chickens as it was when we brought our baby boy or our rescued kittens home.

We’re still learning, but there are some things that are pretty clear.

If Harumi and Kotori were “broiler” chickens, they would already be dead. Their legs, breasts, and wings, so clearly defined beneath their immature feathering, would have been dredged, and fried, or broiled, or stewed. They would be sauced and slathered and consumed without a thought to the individuals they belonged to.

They are months away from laying eggs, and though they will eventually lay them, they will never be “layers.” The essence of who they are will not ever be about what I or any other can take from them.

We at Triangle Chance for All aren’t waiting for a return on our investment. We seek to give rather than take, and all we want from Harumi and Kotori is that they be safe and well.

– Linda Nelson

I was telling my mother about Harumi and Kotori’s separation last night when she said, “You talk as though they have the same feelings as people.” “They do, Mom, they do!” I replied.

I talked about how it is easier for people to kill farmed animals if we pretend that they don’t have the same emotions as our human family members or dogs and cats. It is easier to deny their feelings than own up to the tragedy of killing and using sentient beings.

“And, when they are part of a big flock, you can’t know each one,” my mom added. She went on to tell me about the 25 chicks she had ordered when she was a 10-year-old farm girl. She let me know that they had all seemed the same except a very special rooster who became her pet.

I asked if she had been miserable when my grandpa killed this rooster. “He never did; I wouldn’t let him. He was just like my dog,” was her response.

And so Kotori and Harumi help to shed light where there was not enough.

– Linda Nelson

I went in for my final check of the girls last night to find Kotori quite upset. She was peeping shrilly and urgently, and as I followed her gaze, I saw Harumi on the highest level of our cats’ tower. Clearly her flying skills are improving!

Harumi was less disturbed than Kotori, but she didn’t protest when I picked her up gently and placed her on the floor next to Kotori. She brought to mind the kitten in my son Ian’s favorite book from toddlerhood whose mother had to constantly remind “don’t go up, if you can’t get down!”

Both girls were clearly relieved to be together again. They spent the next twenty minutes before day turned to night trying to shimmy under each other’s wings. I left them sleeping nestled closely together feeling so glad they have each other.

– Linda Nelson

Most people will never see chickens as anything more than the severed body parts they prefer to eat and the eggs they claim as their own. They can’t know these tiny descendants of dinosaurs as anything more than what they can take from them. I pity their blindness.

Kotori and Harumi have established a comfortable rhythm with us. With their physical needs all carefully attended to, they have the chance to be individuals. This is a chance their sisters, mothers and brothers caught up in the hell of animal agriculture will always be denied.

Kotori is a careful eater. She meticulously and forcefully addresses each morsel of food so there is no waste. Harumi
sweeps in, and food flies!

Kotori doesn’t get distracted by much. If she is eating, she eats; if she is drinking, she drinks, and so on. Harumi flits from eating to snuggling back to eating with a drink thrown in.

Kotori loves to snuggle on my lap though she doesn’t seem to crave it as Harumi does. She is satisfied with a pet to the head in passing while Harumi will interrupt what she is doing to seek my lap and my touch. Kotori has a quiet confidence while Harumi is much quicker to startle.

They are so much more than their body parts. They are so much more than the eggs they will produce. They are so much more than the cost of their care or my limited ability to fathom just who they are.

My mother said to me the other day, “I never thought I’d have a daughter who loves chickens!” and though this was meant to be slightly mocking, it struck me as a very beautiful thing.

Yes, I do love chickens, and I always will.

– Linda Nelson

I love this photo of Kotori and Harumi looking out at the wide world together, and I assume it represents what their lives will be from now on.

They will be able to feel the breeze on a spring day while hunting in the grass for good things to eat. They will be able to join a flock and take a dust bath before dashing to the next thing that catches their fancy, and each will have her sister by her side.

Kotori and Harumi will be able to stretch their wings as they explore greater horizons. The window is open to a very good life!

– Linda Nelson

I woke last night at about 2am startled and concerned. I feared that I had failed to close all of the windows in Kotori and Harumi’s sunroom and that the overnight temperatures would hurt them.

I had no choice but to get up and check on the situation just as I had when our son was small or when we had a new kitty at home. The young are so vulnerable.

I turned on a light in the next room before entering the room where I hoped the chickies were sleeping soundly. They were nestled together in one of their boxes, but they began peeping softly and sweetly as I came closer.

All of the windows were closed and all was well, so I stroked their little heads and wished them a goodnight.

I had no thought of assuring a return on my investment when I left my cozy bed. I’m not safeguarding their health because I’m counting on eating their eggs one day. I’m not looking forward to disease free meat once they are bigger and plumper. I will never take anything from them.

I got out of bed because I love them, and I want to assure I do right by them as any mother should.

– Linda Nelson