Lap chicken

It’s nice to have a house chicken to hold.  It’s like a cat.  I love cats and their hot water bottle properties, and I can’t have one, but a chicken will have to do.  You think they’re all sharp beak and talons, but chickens are pretty nice to hold.  They’re soft, plush, and very warm.  They burn hot, like a cat.

Cheeks can sit on me for a solid hour, and she doesn’t even peck my keyboard.  She hasn’t pooped on me either.  Apples was not so polite. I haven’t reached her lap limit, as so far I’ve had to put her back in her box and move on, before she grows restless.  She probably thinks I’m warm too.

It started with holding her for a bit after the uncomfortable dropping-pills-in-her-gullet procedure that we go through twice a day.  I wanted to give her a little social contact.  Everything needs touch.  Then I thought, hmm, can I work while we’re sitting here?  I can.  She snoozes.  Pops her eyes open at pings or unusual sounds.  Sometimes worries at my sleeve or a button.

Chickens are funny- what they can adapt to.  They complain at first about newness, but the next thing you know, they’re totally at home in a box and unblinking at all the slamming, banging, clanging, beeping human sounds.

Look out, chickens are the new purse pets.