July 8, 2022, was the start of my chicken-keeping journey. After doing 9 months of research on everything chickens, I found two black sex link pulleys on Craigslist, paid five bucks each, and gave them the names McChicken and Mcnuggets. I really enjoyed owning chickens. My first girls came into my life during a very dark and depressing time. I had just lost my dad that past March to cancer. A few months after losing my dad, I discovered my husband was having an emotional affair. Saying I was devastated is an understatement. I was distraught and broken. I felt like the last 10 years of my life were a lie. I didn't know what to do or how to feel. My first instinct was to lay in bed and to mourn my father and my once-happy and what I thought was a stable relationship. One sunny September day while feeding my new pets, I kept thinking about how maybe I was the problem and how bad I was hurting, and maybe I should just press control-alt-delete on my existence. All the sudden I felt something just leap onto my shoulder. I looked over, and there sat my new pulley nuggies. She just flew up onto my left shoulder and sat down. I turned to her and asked what the heck she was doing. This next statement might make me sound delusional, but in that moment, Nuggets looked me in the eyes and without even saying a peep. I could just feel so much love and empathy coming from her. I instantly melted; McChicken wasn't far behind her. McChicken followed suit and flew up onto my right shoulder. Then she let out this cute cat purr noise. I had never heard her make those cooing sounds before. It made me smile and gave her a huge “AWE MCCHICKEN'. From that day on, I spent most of my free time with the girls. I spent time playing with them and talking to them. I would watch heavy metal music videos with them. Make them all kinds of yummy snacks that they love. We had a routine at night around 6:30 pm. I would give them their nighttime snack, fill their waters with fresh new water, and make sure they had enough food in their troughs. After they ate their snack, I would let them jump onto my back and shoulders; they would nessle up onto my hair, and I would listen to them for 30 minutes. I read them stories, news articles, Facebook posts, just anything. They would soon drift off to sleep around the 17-minute mark. Like the insane chicken lady that I am, I would keep reading and let them snooze away. Those two black birds made me feel better about myself. When I discovered my husband's affair, it did something to my self-esteem. I felt unattractive, non-desirable. I started to do my hair and makeup every day; I used to spend no less than 3 hours primping a day. I was hell bent on always looking amazing. There wasn't one day that I wasn't made up like I was going to a fancy party. I wouldn't wear any sweatpants or yoga pants. It was either dress or nice jeans. My thought process was if my husband noticed that I was always looking my best that he wouldn't stray away from our marriage. Then one day, as I was starting to apply my war paint, I realized, “Erica What are you really doing? Your going outside to the coop with the girls; they don't know that you wear makeup; they don't know what kind of clothing you are wearing. They don't care; they want you and your treats." I go up from my vanity, put some yoga pants on with an old hoodie, and spend the day with my girls. As time went on, I stated talking to a therapist and between my therapy appointments and spending my days with my girls. I started loving myself again and stopped blaming myself for what had happened. I realized I cannot control grown adults' actions, just my own. That none of what happened was my fault. I did own up to my mistakes in the relationship that might have been the catalyst for him stepping out on me. But it wasn't entirely my fault. McChicken and Mcnuggets will always have a special place in my heart. I did eventually get more chicken later on down the road, but I still spend time with just those two regularly. I will forever be grateful for them saving me and helping me out of the darkness I was in. When I tell people about my chickens doing my life, they actually look at me like I am insane and that I am smoking crack. I despise when people look at me after I tell them about what my chickens have done for me and say, “ITS JUST A DAMN CHICKEN ERICA." It makes my blood boil. Sure, it may be just a chicken to you, but to me, they are my feathered Prozac. I still have both girls today in 2024; they are both happy, healthy, and thriving. In a flock of 8.
My feathered Prozac
July 8, 2022, was the start of my chicken-keeping journey. After doing 9 months of research on everything chickens, I found two black sex link pulleys on Craigslist, paid five bucks each, and gave them the names McChicken and Mcnuggets. I really enjoyed owning chickens. My first girls came into my life during a very dark and depressing time. I had just lost my dad that past March to cancer. A few months after losing my dad, I discovered my husband was having an emotional affair. Saying I was devastated is an understatement. I was distraught and broken. I felt like the last 10 years of my life were a lie. I didn't know what to do or how to feel. My first instinct was to lay in bed and to mourn my father and my once-happy and what I thought was a stable relationship. One sunny September day while feeding my new pets, I kept thinking about how maybe I was the problem and how bad I was hurting, and maybe I should just press control-alt-delete on my existence. All the sudden I felt something just leap onto my shoulder. I looked over, and there sat my new pulley nuggies. She just flew up onto my left shoulder and sat down. I turned to her and asked what the heck she was doing. This next statement might make me sound delusional, but in that moment, Nuggets looked me in the eyes and without even saying a peep. I could just feel so much love and empathy coming from her. I instantly melted; McChicken wasn't far behind her. McChicken followed suit and flew up onto my right shoulder. Then she let out this cute cat purr noise. I had never heard her make those cooing sounds before. It made me smile and gave her a huge “AWE MCCHICKEN'. From that day on, I spent most of my free time with the girls. I spent time playing with them and talking to them. I would watch heavy metal music videos with them. Make them all kinds of yummy snacks that they love. We had a routine at night around 6:30 pm. I would give them their nighttime snack, fill their waters with fresh new water, and make sure they had enough food in their troughs. After they ate their snack, I would let them jump onto my back and shoulders; they would nessle up onto my hair, and I would listen to them for 30 minutes. I read them stories, news articles, Facebook posts, just anything. They would soon drift off to sleep around the 17-minute mark. Like the insane chicken lady that I am, I would keep reading and let them snooze away. Those two black birds made me feel better about myself. When I discovered my husband's affair, it did something to my self-esteem. I felt unattractive, non-desirable. I started to do my hair and makeup every day; I used to spend no less than 3 hours primping a day. I was hell bent on always looking amazing. There wasn't one day that I wasn't made up like I was going to a fancy party. I wouldn't wear any sweatpants or yoga pants. It was either dress or nice jeans. My thought process was if my husband noticed that I was always looking my best that he wouldn't stray away from our marriage. Then one day, as I was starting to apply my war paint, I realized, “Erica What are you really doing? Your going outside to the coop with the girls; they don't know that you wear makeup; they don't know what kind of clothing you are wearing. They don't care; they want you and your treats." I go up from my vanity, put some yoga pants on with an old hoodie, and spend the day with my girls. As time went on, I stated talking to a therapist and between my therapy appointments and spending my days with my girls. I started loving myself again and stopped blaming myself for what had happened. I realized I cannot control grown adults' actions, just my own. That none of what happened was my fault. I did own up to my mistakes in the relationship that might have been the catalyst for him stepping out on me. But it wasn't entirely my fault. McChicken and Mcnuggets will always have a special place in my heart. I did eventually get more chicken later on down the road, but I still spend time with just those two regularly. I will forever be grateful for them saving me and helping me out of the darkness I was in. When I tell people about my chickens doing my life, they actually look at me like I am insane and that I am smoking crack. I despise when people look at me after I tell them about what my chickens have done for me and say, “ITS JUST A DAMN CHICKEN ERICA." It makes my blood boil. Sure, it may be just a chicken to you, but to me, they are my feathered Prozac. I still have both girls today in 2024; they are both happy, healthy, and thriving. In a flock of 8.
