A Chicken Named Egg

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Egg on Kathy's shoulder 1973

Notice the chicken on my shoulder – read on to find out who it was!

As I’ve mentioned before, when we moved to Indiana we became “farmers”.  We purchased ducks and chickens and set about treating them as members of the family – as only transplanted California farmers will do!

I’ll never forget the first egg we discovered in our hen house.  We knew owning female chickens meant that eggs would be inevitable, but you should have seen us when we noticed one lone egg in its nest.  We were so excited you would have thought it was the first egg laid in the history of chicken-kind!

However, our excitement quickly turned to concern when we noticed that our mother hen was ignoring her egg.  No matter how we tried to coax her, she simply would not sit on that egg.  We knew that if she continued to neglect her offspring, there was no hope it would survive.

This created quite a dilemma for newbie farmers. After all, letting the egg remain cold and alone wasn’t an option. I can’t claim to remember exactly how it happened, but the next thing I knew we had purchased an incubator.  It was a small contraption and we plugged it in and set it on our kitchen counter.  Where else would we have put it?

I’m not sure how many weeks went by but we became fairly certain that this egg would probably not hatch.  It had been a valiant effort but how could novice farmers hope to accomplish something as delicately balanced as bringing an abandoned baby chick into the world?

Not easily defeated, however, we continued to wait and hope.  We also got in the habit of talking to the egg hoping this might convince the baby chick that the world was a friendly place.  Naturally, when we talked to the egg, we called it “Egg”.   We didn’t know if it was a boy or girl so it seemed to silly to give it an actual name.

So, anytime one of us would walk past the incubator we’d say “hi Egg”, “come on out, Egg” or “we can’t wait to meet you, Egg”.  Looking back it seems pretty silly but it felt right at the time!

One evening, the family was sitting at the kitchen table having dinner.  My mom suddenly interrupted the conversation and said, “do you hear something?”.  Of course, we all stopped and listened.  Sure enough, there was a strange, squeaking sound.  It took awhile but we finally realized it was coming from the direction of the incubator.

I must admit we had truly given up on Egg.  We just didn’t have the heart to dispose of it.  After weeks of talking to it and hoping for the best, it seemed unthinkable to simply throw it in the trash!

So, when we realized that this Egg was actually hatching we went ballistic.  Sure enough, there was a tiny hole in the egg and we could hear – clear as anything – the chirping of that little chick as it struggled to “come out of its shell”.

A few hours later, out popped a wet, slimy baby chick.  Unbelievable!

Egg - one day old

Egg – just a few days old – proudly posing for the camera

In the days that followed, the baby chick stayed in our house so it would be warm and safe.  As we nurtured and pampered it, we found ourselves continuing to call her “Egg”.  It seemed only natural.

Egg with eggshell

Where else would a baby chick hang out but on the living room chair?

Just like all our other farm animals, Egg became part of the family.  As she grew big enough to live outside in the hen house, she continued to follow us around like a puppy dog.  If we were outside, she was right there.  She loved to perch on our shoulders and sit there while we walked around.  Only in our world would this happen – it was hysterical!

Egg grew to be an adult, had babies of her own and remained a loyal member of our family.

Mom holding a "teenage" chicken - in our kitchen!

Mom holding a “teenage” Egg – in our kitchen!

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