The Secret Club Nobody Signed Up For (I GOT PUBLISHED AGAIN 🎉)

There comes a time in life when you think about what you are in this world. What I have come to realise, and this is very important, is that whatever you are doesn't matter. A chicken will always outshine you. I promise you I am serious.

Not everyone I know has a chicken story but almost everyone knows someone who does. For some reason, a surprising number of childhood memories involve being chased, pecked, or mildly judged by a chicken. It’s like a hushed rural legend, passed down through generations. Some people grow up with fairy tales; others grow up with warnings about chickens.

My brother’s story is a family legend. One summer, when he was little, he decided to chase my grandpa’s chickens, convinced he could catch one. He’d tried before, never successfully, but I suppose chasing them around the farm was part of the fun. That evening, however, the chickens had other plans. One hen in particular turned, squawked like a tiny battle cry, and sprinted straight at him. He ran for his life. Feathers flew, a little boy's shrieks filled the air, and I learned an important truth: chickens may not fly much, but they do not back down. (For the chicken POV, head over to COOP Magazine)

Ever since then, I keep hearing about it. Friends, colleagues, people I’ve just met, somehow end up talking about random fears and suddenly everyone has a chicken story. A chase, a peck, a long cold stare from across a farmyard, you name it, someone had lived it. Some of them even had photographic evidence, which they were surprisingly eager to show me, as if I needed convincing. I wasn’t sure whether to feel left out or relieved but I decided on relieved. There seems to be a secret club nobody signed up for, and the initiation is always the same: at some point, a chicken decided you needed to be put in your place.

What makes it funnier or rather terrifying, is how innocent they look when they’re calm. They stroll around, clucking softly, pretending they’re too busy for drama. But the moment someone makes the wrong move, they are out for blood. I swear they can sense fear. Maybe they have some kind of chicken telepathy. Honestly? I respect it.

I think that’s part of their charm. Chickens are ridiculous and majestic at the same time. They wobble when they walk, get startled by their own shadows, and yet demand to be acknowledged. You can’t look into those beady little eyes and not feel judged. But when you think about whose descendants they are, it all makes sense. Somewhere in that piercing gaze, is a dinosaur staring back at you.

My brother would definitely claim he’s no longer afraid of them. He has never once brought up that summer, not even as a funny story which is surprising for him (he’s usually annoying like that). But I know better. Some things you just don’t talk about.

We like to think we are at the top of the food chain. But every time I see someone running from a puffed-up hen, I’m reminded of something much simpler: in any fair fight, the chicken always wins.

To read this infamous family hen's side of the story, please head over to the COOP magazine where I am grateful to have published my tiny piece among other fun chicken-y literature: COOP Magazine, If it Laughs, Peck its Toes