- Aug 13, 2013
- 9
- 1
- 7
I've had two ISA Browns and two RIRs since March 2013. My father had no intention of buying anything from a nearby pet store, my brother was just bored and wanted to observe some animals. I was off at a friend's party, and my mom and sister were shopping. When my father saw the chicks at the pet store, he couldn't resist buying them. He grew up in Pakistan, and according to his occasionally questionable stories he had all kinds of animals. Fish, turtles, chickens, and even a deer (hence the word "questionable"). He mainly just wanted them for nostalgic purposes. When he picked us all up and brought us home we were very delighted by my father's surprise gift for all of us. My brother straight away told me he named two of them. He named one of the RIRs Tree Trunks and the other one "Beak." He let me and my sister name the other ones. My sister named one Marcy and I called the last one Pepe. They were growing up happily, and we enjoyed playing with them. They were family to us.
It all changed when one day Beak started to repeatedly crow one day. We had thought that all of our chickens were hens, so we were very surprised by this. Beak had also been growing at a faster rate than the other chickens, so we already had our suspicions. After a few more months, Beak had slowly changed from sweet and cuddly into an all-out chaos machine. He would fight the other chickens to establish his dominance, and commonly engaged in fights with my family. He had grievances against us. My father would always handle him a bit roughly, and once he hit him in the face with a small stick. My brother has also kicked him once or twice, so he had issues with him too. But despite all of the disorder he created, the good parts of him still remained.
I had always seen Beak fighting Pepe, seeing as they had been having some kind of power struggle, and sometimes he even picked on Marcy for no good reason. I never saw him hurt Tree Trunks though. He was nice to her. Even as a chick he cuddled with her when she was cold, and you could often catch them sunbathing while huddled up against each other. I even saw him clean her feathers out.
And then there was me. Beak didn't really like me, but he didn't harm me either. I was responsible for taking care of the chicks because my dad is a busy man and I was the only one not scared of them. Up to this point I have fed him 99% of his meals. Him and I had an understanding, sort of like guard dogs and their caretakers. Unfortunately, others couldn't share this understanding.
By the time that Beak had started regularly crowing, we received a complaint from a neighbor. We disregarded it at first because the rest of the neighborhood had no issues or grievances, but when she threatened to call law enforcement, we realized we had no choice but to give him away.
It was the gloomiest day of my life. We found a store that was willing to take him, and the car ride there was agonizingly short. We watched as he was put into a tiny little cage and then shut up for good. We asked the people what would happen, and they said they planned on sending him to an egg farm. I was relieved because I knew he would be able to roam free without the restrictions imposed in metropolitan neighborhoods like mine. But at the same time I was devastated. I wouldn't be able to visit him, more or less know where he is. He was family to me. And he would be gone, just like that. What was even more painful was watching the other chickens search for him when we got home. They looked everywhere, but they found nothing but a feather he had left behind a day back. After realizing their friend was gone I think they went into a depression or something. For a few days they barely even ate anything. They were completely docile, not even intent on jumping around or running from me.
It's been almost two weeks and I still desperately miss Beak and curse my neighbors names. I can only hope he is alright.
It all changed when one day Beak started to repeatedly crow one day. We had thought that all of our chickens were hens, so we were very surprised by this. Beak had also been growing at a faster rate than the other chickens, so we already had our suspicions. After a few more months, Beak had slowly changed from sweet and cuddly into an all-out chaos machine. He would fight the other chickens to establish his dominance, and commonly engaged in fights with my family. He had grievances against us. My father would always handle him a bit roughly, and once he hit him in the face with a small stick. My brother has also kicked him once or twice, so he had issues with him too. But despite all of the disorder he created, the good parts of him still remained.
I had always seen Beak fighting Pepe, seeing as they had been having some kind of power struggle, and sometimes he even picked on Marcy for no good reason. I never saw him hurt Tree Trunks though. He was nice to her. Even as a chick he cuddled with her when she was cold, and you could often catch them sunbathing while huddled up against each other. I even saw him clean her feathers out.
And then there was me. Beak didn't really like me, but he didn't harm me either. I was responsible for taking care of the chicks because my dad is a busy man and I was the only one not scared of them. Up to this point I have fed him 99% of his meals. Him and I had an understanding, sort of like guard dogs and their caretakers. Unfortunately, others couldn't share this understanding.
By the time that Beak had started regularly crowing, we received a complaint from a neighbor. We disregarded it at first because the rest of the neighborhood had no issues or grievances, but when she threatened to call law enforcement, we realized we had no choice but to give him away.
It was the gloomiest day of my life. We found a store that was willing to take him, and the car ride there was agonizingly short. We watched as he was put into a tiny little cage and then shut up for good. We asked the people what would happen, and they said they planned on sending him to an egg farm. I was relieved because I knew he would be able to roam free without the restrictions imposed in metropolitan neighborhoods like mine. But at the same time I was devastated. I wouldn't be able to visit him, more or less know where he is. He was family to me. And he would be gone, just like that. What was even more painful was watching the other chickens search for him when we got home. They looked everywhere, but they found nothing but a feather he had left behind a day back. After realizing their friend was gone I think they went into a depression or something. For a few days they barely even ate anything. They were completely docile, not even intent on jumping around or running from me.
It's been almost two weeks and I still desperately miss Beak and curse my neighbors names. I can only hope he is alright.
