Memorial Day weekend of this year was one of the worst weekends I have ever experienced. That rainy day my first flock of 6 was reduced to 2, an attack by neighborhood dogs left me and my boyfriend one Barred Rock and one Americauna. Blackie the BR was only missing her tail but the Americauna had suffered severe trauma and was missing most of her back and her wing was almost torn off. After the vet visit, 4 stitches and 2 staples later, the little Americauna was appropriately named Stitch. After a few weeks of recovery Stitch was back on her feet, albeit she was a little wobbly on a occasion but it just added to her personality. A couple months later Blackie laid her first egg, I was so proud of her! A few more months past and Stitch still hadn't laid. I know her breed might lay later than others but after all the trauma she went through I began to question if she could ever lay. It didn't matter to me in the end she had become a family favorite. A perfect Sunday for Stitch is sitting in your lap in the sun enjoying a helping of fine cracked corn. But just the other day while outside I heard the LOUDEST egg song ever. Looking over at the enclosed area we have for them I saw Stitch literally prancing around the hay. I went over to see what was up, to find that she had made a nest in the corner and had laid the perfect little tinted egg. I cried. She had been through so much and now right before the holiday this little surprise. I said to her "you did it girl, you showed them!" Chickens have changed my perspective on how I eat, where my food comes from and how to be a survivor. For me this year was finding out what I never knew I was missing...chickens.