Pet Chickens

Just when you thought my family couldn’t get any weirder…

Some families have cats and dogs. My family has chickens.

It’s a pretty efficient system. My parents give them a place to live, feed them their plant-based table scraps, and in exchange, take their eggs to eat. As a vegan, I don’t necessarily condone eating eggs, but that’s more because I have a problem with the way that factory farms operate and the conditions the animals live in.

They’re all the same breed, so they all look the same. But three of them have names based on their personalities– Beaky Manuka is the nice one, BooBoo is my brother’s baby, and Bad Bird is the recluse. My parents chose the names.

When I go home and see my chickens, it reaffirms my decision not to eat meat.

Chickens get a bad reputation for being dumb, disgusting creatures. But my chickens are some of the smartest animals I’ve seen. They travel in flocks to protect themselves, are trained to come when called, and have a social order. For me, eating them would be like eating a cat. Even though I don’t own every cat in the world, I know enough about what they’re like to know I would be uncomfortable if I ate one.

So there you have it.

My parents had shrimp kabobs with dinner. I had a black bean burger instead.

There was quinoa with cilantro paste and baked asparagus on the side.

The asparagus was fantastic. I’ll have to bother my mom for the recipe tomorrow.