caracals
Chirping
When someone mentions their 'therapy animal,' you would at least picture a dog or perhaps a cat or even a parrot. Not many would associate a chicken as being their therapy animal. But the one thing they don't know is that the definition of a therapy animal is limitless. It has no boundaries as to what kind of animal you can befriend and seek comfort from, and I find that absolutely incredible.
I have my own experience with this. My therapy animal, Phoebe.
She is, without a doubt, a chicken.
It all started about a few months ago, when I had been rearing a Muscovy duckling who had lost its mother due to predators. It had siblings, but they unfortunately passed away. About a day or two into caring for it, my mom approached me with the idea that she would introduce a companion for it as they were well known as flock animals. A chick was the first thing that left her mouth, and not another duckling. The reason being, it was a chick that was going to one of her co-workers and we were to take care of it for some time before giving her up.
Never did I think that when we walked through those doors of the feed store would I find a forever friend. A companion who would guide me through so much.
She was one of the first chickens I laid eyes upon, given that she was so incredibly active and bigger than the other chicks in the brooder. I chose her, and brought her home with the duckling and promptly took care of them.
Unfortunately, it seemed there were other plans for us in store. The duckling ended up passing away, and we were left with the chick.
I was distraught, and I nearly refused to take care of the chick as I felt that it was my fault I had lost the duckling, nicknamed 'Pie' for his Piebald markings. My father didn't help, insisting that I wouldn't be able to take care of the little chick. With the encouragement of my mom, I fiercly reared her up on her own for a couple of days before visiting another feed store and buying 3 EE's to give her company.
It was the beginning of our flock, and the first chapter in our story.
This is Phoebe when she was approx. 10 days old pictured with one of her poops.
As she grew older, she became more endearing and helpful to me. She would nestle into my hair and peep on my shoulder, begging for warmth. She would love to be on camera and would crawl all over me with her little feet tapping against my chest. I loved her, and I knew I wouldn't be able to give her up. And so, I came to my mom letting her know that I couldn't get rid of her and that I became attached to her. Luckily, she understood, and I had been thankful ever since.
About a week or so later, we bought 2 more chickens - both were bantams. A RIR pullet and a Buff Silkie cockerel (unknown to us, but we kept him anyway). She grew bigger and bigger alongside her flock, and although they combated at whether who would be the best chicken, she remained sweet and curious with a lovable personality, and she would always be titled as my favorite no matter who tried to win my heart.
Eventually, I was no longer going to the hospital and I had learned to be happier and find happiness in taking care of my flock and listening to Phoebe purring sleepily in my ear whenever I would let her sleep on the bed with me. She'd curl up beside my head and would rest her head beside mine as if she was calling herself human too.
My mom grew to love her as well, and I'd often bring her inside to show her off to my sister and her daughter. At times I'd just let her free range for a bit under close supervision because it made her happy to soak up some much needed vitamin D from the sun.
Little did I know, I was completely healed and it was all because she was by my side. She helped me through so much, and even my mom recognized that.
So with confidence, my mom proposed the idea that chickens could visit her workplace at the VA Hospital to meet the patients there. They approved it almost immediately, and she was pleasantly surprised as was I.
We didn't know that she would come this far in so little time and become something like this, but we took her to the pet store to fit on a harness with a 6" leash and all of the customers and employees quickly fell in love with her and even started to take pictures of her!
I didn't even realize I had begun passionately talking about chickens and about her to them until my mom had pointed it out how happy it made me and how happy it made them.
Her story isn't over yet, however.
At nearly 5 months, she is still growing and hasn't even laid her first egg - which I'll totally be psyched for. She has a long way to go in this world, and I'll happily follow her every step of the way.
And while her job is to make patients and myself feel happy, I hope that this blossoming experience places a smile on your face.
May all of you have a wonderful day!
I have my own experience with this. My therapy animal, Phoebe.
She is, without a doubt, a chicken.
It all started about a few months ago, when I had been rearing a Muscovy duckling who had lost its mother due to predators. It had siblings, but they unfortunately passed away. About a day or two into caring for it, my mom approached me with the idea that she would introduce a companion for it as they were well known as flock animals. A chick was the first thing that left her mouth, and not another duckling. The reason being, it was a chick that was going to one of her co-workers and we were to take care of it for some time before giving her up.
Never did I think that when we walked through those doors of the feed store would I find a forever friend. A companion who would guide me through so much.
She was one of the first chickens I laid eyes upon, given that she was so incredibly active and bigger than the other chicks in the brooder. I chose her, and brought her home with the duckling and promptly took care of them.
Unfortunately, it seemed there were other plans for us in store. The duckling ended up passing away, and we were left with the chick.
I was distraught, and I nearly refused to take care of the chick as I felt that it was my fault I had lost the duckling, nicknamed 'Pie' for his Piebald markings. My father didn't help, insisting that I wouldn't be able to take care of the little chick. With the encouragement of my mom, I fiercly reared her up on her own for a couple of days before visiting another feed store and buying 3 EE's to give her company.
It was the beginning of our flock, and the first chapter in our story.
As she grew older, she became more endearing and helpful to me. She would nestle into my hair and peep on my shoulder, begging for warmth. She would love to be on camera and would crawl all over me with her little feet tapping against my chest. I loved her, and I knew I wouldn't be able to give her up. And so, I came to my mom letting her know that I couldn't get rid of her and that I became attached to her. Luckily, she understood, and I had been thankful ever since.
About a week or so later, we bought 2 more chickens - both were bantams. A RIR pullet and a Buff Silkie cockerel (unknown to us, but we kept him anyway). She grew bigger and bigger alongside her flock, and although they combated at whether who would be the best chicken, she remained sweet and curious with a lovable personality, and she would always be titled as my favorite no matter who tried to win my heart.
Eventually, I was no longer going to the hospital and I had learned to be happier and find happiness in taking care of my flock and listening to Phoebe purring sleepily in my ear whenever I would let her sleep on the bed with me. She'd curl up beside my head and would rest her head beside mine as if she was calling herself human too.
My mom grew to love her as well, and I'd often bring her inside to show her off to my sister and her daughter. At times I'd just let her free range for a bit under close supervision because it made her happy to soak up some much needed vitamin D from the sun.
Little did I know, I was completely healed and it was all because she was by my side. She helped me through so much, and even my mom recognized that.
So with confidence, my mom proposed the idea that chickens could visit her workplace at the VA Hospital to meet the patients there. They approved it almost immediately, and she was pleasantly surprised as was I.
We didn't know that she would come this far in so little time and become something like this, but we took her to the pet store to fit on a harness with a 6" leash and all of the customers and employees quickly fell in love with her and even started to take pictures of her!
I didn't even realize I had begun passionately talking about chickens and about her to them until my mom had pointed it out how happy it made me and how happy it made them.
Her story isn't over yet, however.
At nearly 5 months, she is still growing and hasn't even laid her first egg - which I'll totally be psyched for. She has a long way to go in this world, and I'll happily follow her every step of the way.
And while her job is to make patients and myself feel happy, I hope that this blossoming experience places a smile on your face.
May all of you have a wonderful day!
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And merry Christmas!!!
