Agnes was my favorite. Yes, I named my rooster Agnes. Well, I named my hen Agnes, but she turned out to be a rooster. As a chick, she was friendly. When I would go to feed them, she would jump on my lap and snuggle with me. I would sing to them, and she would sit on my lap. When she was old enough, I put her in with the layers. I sat in the chicken yard with her as she got adjusted, and the first night, she stood by the door as I left, calling for me. I had a hard time sleeping that night. The next morning, she was right there with the others waiting for morning treats. I kept her in so she would get used to her new home and I could trust her to come back to the coop at night. That’s when I heard it…a crow. I turned in time to see Agnes letting out another big cockle-doodle-do! My heart sank. We couldn’t keep another rooster. We already had 2 roosters. But Agnes wasn’t just any rooster. She would jump in my lap or up on my shoulder to visit. She would let me stroke her feathers and listen as I planned out my day or complained about what I didn’t get to that day. So, I talked Fred into keeping her. She and Ron Rico, the other rooster, would take their girls out foraging. They would both come up and visit with me and have snuggle time.
I went home for a visit and Fred told me Agnes was missing. My heart was breaking. Hopefully she was hiding and safe for the night. But she wasn’t. Something had gotten her when she was out foraging way too far from the farm. I couldn’t stop crying. My first morning back, it was hard to do chores with the chickens. I wanted Agnes. Ron Rico came up to me and so did Pee-Wee, another chick I had kept. Both sat with me and listened as I grieved.
At times I think I shouldn’t get so attached to the animals. That I can treat them well and with kindness and not be attached. But I don’t want to do that. I want to have some favorites. I want to have an attachment to them. It’s part of the enjoyment of having them. When I need a break or an ear to bend, they are there for me. I never thought I would be so attached to a chicken…or two…or three..but I am. I miss my Agnes.