Sigh – all chickens hate me.

I feed them. I water them. I protect them from harm.

Okay, sometimes I kill them and eat them, but technically they don’t know that. So why do they all hate me?
0713151633These are my latest babies. I’m down to four, one died under mysterious circumstances but I definitely didn’t do it. They’re cute and fluffy and they’ve been around humans since they hatched and none have ever harmed them. But they think I’m the Big Scary Monster.
0713151638These are Landlady’s Brahmas, plus a couple of Rhode Island Reds. They’ve known me since they were pullets. I come to them twice daily. I feed them. I give them treats. I speak to them softly. They think I’m the Antichrist.
0713151649These are the Red Ladies, my own laying hens in the Fortress of Attitude. These, at least, appear happy to see me when I show up in the afternoon. Until I actually enter the yard, of course. Really they’re happy to see the coffee can full of scratch. Because they think I’m the Devil Incarnate.

Same deal, of course. I’ve never harmed one of these chickens. But there’s no buying their trust.

I really don’t get it.

About Joel

You shouldn't ask these questions of a paranoid recluse, you know.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to Sigh – all chickens hate me.

  1. Ben says:

    Sorry about the untimely demise of one of them, but your remaining pullet-critters seem to be growing up amazingly fast. May they never crow.

  2. Joel says:

    Yeah, they’re supposed to be sexed and definitely female. Otherwise I’d have gotten at least half again as many, planning to eat anybody who crowed.

    I’ll still do that last thing.

  3. Polly Tix says:

    Chickens don’t trust you, in spite of how well you have behaved towards them?

    Sounds like they are republicans, or libertarians, or something.

    If they were Democrats, they’d trust you in a minute.

  4. Kentucky says:

    . . . as long as you keep the free food, shelter, and care coming.

  5. Mike in KY says:

    It was the same with me when we had chickens. Oh, they’d flock to the sound of the shaken corn bucket. Otherwise, I was the dangerous ogre who struck terror in their hearts at first sight. Maybe it was because I came around and stole their unhatched youngun’s every day…

    My daughter, on the other hand, was the Chicken Whisperer. They’d run up to her and jump in her lap if she sat down.

  6. Paul Bonneau says:

    If they get to liking you, you’ll end up with kitchen poop on your doorstep.

  7. Ben says:

    Since you obviously haven’t (yet) done anything bad to those pullets, it’s pretty obvious that they are born with their tiny brains hard-wired to fear “the big scary man”. Since your hard-wired genetic heritage mandates your role as “the big scary man” in their existence, I wouldn’t take their lack of affection and gratitude personally.

  8. Robert says:

    Because an adult chicken brain is the size of a pea? And it isn’t really used. Google “Mike the Headless Chicken”.

  9. abnormalist says:

    If they liked you they would make better pets.

    If they were better pets, more people would have issues eating them.

    If people had issues eating them, they would probably evolve to be better pets.

    Chicken is tasty, no body better make them into good pets!

  10. Nosmo says:

    Very Republican of you, Joel, wanting so desperately to be liked…..

  11. s says:

    For some equally inexplicable reason, chickens love me. Whenever I visit a friend or farm that keeps chickens, the hens all come running to me, as if they expect me to feed them. I’ve never seen them before.

    This happens so consistently several people have remarked about it. I would think I’m at least as much a Big Scary Monster as Joel, but the chickens have their own opinions.

  12. Joel says:

    Very Republican of you, Joel,


  13. Mark Matis says:

    They’ve seen what you do to small creatures like mice and chipmunks and pack rats and ground squirrels. Then there’s the fact that you smell like Ghost and Little Bear. Smart chickens, if you ask me…

To the stake with the heretic!