The Chicken and Me

I have to admit, I love chicken. To continue the chicken theme for this week, I am going to tell you a story about a chicken. Before we proceed to the story, I am pleased to announce that I have adopted a stray little kitten as my new pet and gave him the name ‘chicken’.

Once upon a time, like how all fairy tales begin, there was a happy little dove. I was happily alone and minding my own business in this world. One day, I went for a holiday and much needed retreat to a peaceful village. It was there I saw the chicken. He was running around the place like crazy and I was amused. I also have the love to run like crazy sometimes. I took a picture. It felt good that in spite of how quickly it ran, I was able to catch it for a few seconds to get a good picture.

This chicken seemed confused. He probably does not know he's a chicken. He probably thinks he's a retreatant as well. The chicken ran around the place trying to find itself until it settled beside me. I was amused.

"Why me? I am sure there are other chicken-lovers in the area...", I asked.

But the chicken stayed for a while. I must admit, I have always love chicken but only when it is fried, grilled, barbecued or satayed and served on my plate. Live chicken scares me a little because of the bird flu or the highly pandemic avian influenza. The chicken was interested to get to know me and I, I had my stories to tell. The chicken was reaching out and I, even if I knew my niche, reached out as well. For a few moments, the chicken and I shared a bond. It felt good.

But the chicken probably realized that it was good for him to play around with other chickens. He was comfortable with that arrangement and so off he went. I saw him running around the place, this time with another chicken. They looked good together, they were both chickens anyway. I looked at them from afar. I imagined their lives together as chickens while I lived mine. But at the back of my mind, I was envious of them.

"The chicken seemed happy with his life...", I thought.

I looked around the place and started walking towards the nearest store to buy a drink. I saw my chicken again but that was just about it. He approached me and looked at me in the eyes. I looked at him and I smiled. I wanted to hold my chicken but something stopped me.

"I cannot hold a free bird in hand, that would just be not right", I whispered.

So I looked at my chicken one last time and said goodbye.

"I am setting you free now, dear chicken... "

The chicken kept on reappearing before me. He was really stubborn. He must really be amused by me and was probably hoping that we can still be within arms reach. But we both knew better.

"I am human and you are a chicken... it's just not meant to be...", I told him.

So with one final look, my chicken and I bid farewell.

"Goodbye chicken..."

And I left the place. Walking away, I felt a tinge of sadness. I know that I will miss that chicken but I had to accept the fact that there are just some things that can never be, he will forever be a chicken while I will always be me. But for that brief moment, I connected with that chicken and he, he forever changed my life.

I am done chasing chickens, finally.

Little Dove's Note: Just because I missed my chicken so much, I later found myself eating at KFC that night. I enjoyed each and every bite of my original recipe chicken. I may never have another experience with a chicken like that, but I will surely enjoy (and will continue to enjoy) tasting other chickens in other chicken selling restaurants.

I am sure my chicken is already happy where he is. And I heard from a little woodpecker that flew in through my window, that he would go on vacation with his chicken-lover. And that is a story worth telling: how chickens finally learned how to fly.