March 10, 2026 - “Why did the chicken cross the road?” My pet chicken told me that it was to show armadillos everywhere that it could be done. When I was a teenage boy back in the early 1950s, I had a pet chicken. She was the most unusual pet that I ever had.
Another question that comes to mind is, “Why did the chicken become my pet?” My parents had a small pen in their back yard in which they kept several hens and a rooster. They, of course, provided our family with fresh eggs, and occasionally when fried chicken was on the menu; my job was to chase down one of the hens in the pen for prompt execution. Perhaps this particular hen figured out that if she became friends with the executioner, she would be safe. It worked.
“Hennie” would follow me around the back forty just like a dog. She enjoyed being picked up and petted. She particularly liked sitting atop a post on the back fence and being stroked. I could almost swear she would purr!
She was my only pet for several years. Then a dog, Slick, seemed to work his way into first place in my interest, and Hennie had to take a back seat. I am not sure what finally happened to my pet chicken. It may be that when I went off to college she found herself as the main dish for a Sunday dinner for my parents. I guess I will never know.
