Cheeks and the fried egg

Cheeks is the current resident house chicken. She has yet to be introduced, and her story is long, but the short version is that she had a life-threatening injury in the fall and has been in the house all winter with her future and survival uncertain.

She has been behaving like a total pet - chickens have a way of knowing when they've got a good thing going and how not to mess it up. She is staying well within the "I'm no trouble" circle.

She sleeps in a box and perches and eats from the top of a Rubbermaid, and she moves between the two on her own. She's completely endeared herself to my husband (who's who she really has to win over), and he's been known to hold her "just for a visit", and make up songs to sing her to sleep (she obliges by falling asleep). As a result she gets the premium snacks, as we ply her with variety to help her put on weight. And she's right there watching us anytime food is on the go, with her head periscoping out of her box. Do you like oatmeal? Yes. Rice? No. Yogourt? Oh, very much! Boiled egg? Every day. Croissant? Mais OUI!

Today my husband cracked an egg in the pan and it was bad, so he finished cooking it and then scraped it out for Cheeks. A fried egg!? WOW! We witnessed a rare degree of enthusiasm. She dragged it out of her dish and bashed it apart, demolishing it like she hadn't eaten for a day. (She already had a full crop.) I can always eat more:)