- Jul 8, 2025
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Okay, so I had this dream last night and I honestly feel kind of crazy writing it out, but it’s been stuck in my head all day and I need to get it out somewhere people will understand.
So in the dream I was outside, right by our tractor near the house. It was like late afternoon, that sort of time where the sun is starting to go down and everything has that golden light to it. The whole scene felt super normal, like it could have actually been happening. My brother was there holding Penny, my Gold Laced Wyandotte hen. She looked exactly like herself — golden feathers with the black lacing, calm but alert like she always is. My mom was nearby and she said something like, “It’s time to put them back in the coop.” Up to this point the dream felt like a totally ordinary moment, something we’d really do in real life.
But then I looked down at the ground near me, and this is where everything shifted. Standing there was another chicken. And the second I saw it, I knew it wasn’t one of my real-life birds. It was definitely a Cochin — round, fluffy, with feathered legs, just like they’re supposed to be — but the coloring was so different from anything I’ve actually seen. Its base color was blue, like that slate gray-blue shade some chickens have, but it wasn’t solid. Across the blue there were splashes of black, uneven and scattered but very noticeable, almost like someone had brushed black paint across random patches of feathers. And then on its head, the feathers were peppered with white. Not solid white, not a clean marking, but like little flecks sprinkled through the darker feathers, giving it this speckled look. The combination was so striking — blue body, black splashes, white-sprinkled head — that I can still picture it clearly now that I’m awake.
And here’s the part that really got me: the moment I saw it, I knew it was Bunny. For anyone who doesn’t know, Bunny was my Splash Cochin who died last July. She was really special to me, and losing her was hard. She has actually visited me in dreams before, but in all those past dreams she always looked exactly like herself — classic splash pattern, fluffy and familiar, like the Bunny I knew in life. But this time was different. She didn’t look the same at all, yet something about the way my dream-brain reacted told me without a doubt, this is Bunny. It wasn’t just a random chicken — it carried her presence, and I could feel it.
What makes it even stranger is that I somehow knew it wasn’t “now” in the dream. The season was May. I could tell because the trees were full of leaves, the grass was thick and lush, and the air felt like that warm late-spring weather. That hit me as really weird because in real life, we’re getting new chicks in February. By May, they’ll be about three months old and starting to look more like pullets. So it almost felt like the dream wasn’t taking place in the present — it was jumping ahead into the future.
The whole thing left me feeling like Bunny was showing up in a new way, not as the exact chicken she was, but in some transformed version of herself. Almost like she was saying, “I’m still here, I’m still part of your flock, and I’ll be with you when the new chicks come.” It didn’t feel like just a random dream image — it felt important.
When I woke up, I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head: me standing by the tractor, my brother holding Penny, my mom calling for us to put the chickens away, and then this blue Cochin with black splashes and a peppered white head looking up at me. It’s burned into my memory in a way most dreams never are.
I know this all sounds kind of crazy, but Bunny showing up differently this time has me wondering if there’s some meaning behind it, or if it’s just my brain mixing memories with the excitement of the new chicks coming. Either way, it felt real and I can’t shake it.
So in the dream I was outside, right by our tractor near the house. It was like late afternoon, that sort of time where the sun is starting to go down and everything has that golden light to it. The whole scene felt super normal, like it could have actually been happening. My brother was there holding Penny, my Gold Laced Wyandotte hen. She looked exactly like herself — golden feathers with the black lacing, calm but alert like she always is. My mom was nearby and she said something like, “It’s time to put them back in the coop.” Up to this point the dream felt like a totally ordinary moment, something we’d really do in real life.
But then I looked down at the ground near me, and this is where everything shifted. Standing there was another chicken. And the second I saw it, I knew it wasn’t one of my real-life birds. It was definitely a Cochin — round, fluffy, with feathered legs, just like they’re supposed to be — but the coloring was so different from anything I’ve actually seen. Its base color was blue, like that slate gray-blue shade some chickens have, but it wasn’t solid. Across the blue there were splashes of black, uneven and scattered but very noticeable, almost like someone had brushed black paint across random patches of feathers. And then on its head, the feathers were peppered with white. Not solid white, not a clean marking, but like little flecks sprinkled through the darker feathers, giving it this speckled look. The combination was so striking — blue body, black splashes, white-sprinkled head — that I can still picture it clearly now that I’m awake.
And here’s the part that really got me: the moment I saw it, I knew it was Bunny. For anyone who doesn’t know, Bunny was my Splash Cochin who died last July. She was really special to me, and losing her was hard. She has actually visited me in dreams before, but in all those past dreams she always looked exactly like herself — classic splash pattern, fluffy and familiar, like the Bunny I knew in life. But this time was different. She didn’t look the same at all, yet something about the way my dream-brain reacted told me without a doubt, this is Bunny. It wasn’t just a random chicken — it carried her presence, and I could feel it.
What makes it even stranger is that I somehow knew it wasn’t “now” in the dream. The season was May. I could tell because the trees were full of leaves, the grass was thick and lush, and the air felt like that warm late-spring weather. That hit me as really weird because in real life, we’re getting new chicks in February. By May, they’ll be about three months old and starting to look more like pullets. So it almost felt like the dream wasn’t taking place in the present — it was jumping ahead into the future.
The whole thing left me feeling like Bunny was showing up in a new way, not as the exact chicken she was, but in some transformed version of herself. Almost like she was saying, “I’m still here, I’m still part of your flock, and I’ll be with you when the new chicks come.” It didn’t feel like just a random dream image — it felt important.
When I woke up, I couldn’t stop replaying it in my head: me standing by the tractor, my brother holding Penny, my mom calling for us to put the chickens away, and then this blue Cochin with black splashes and a peppered white head looking up at me. It’s burned into my memory in a way most dreams never are.
I know this all sounds kind of crazy, but Bunny showing up differently this time has me wondering if there’s some meaning behind it, or if it’s just my brain mixing memories with the excitement of the new chicks coming. Either way, it felt real and I can’t shake it.
