The rest of the story

Kate called about 1:30 on Wednesday to report that the chicken had been delivered. I could tell from her voice that the whole experience had been fun for her. Jackie didn’t make a peep the whole way until she walked into the school, when he crowed once. Hailey, his future owner, ran into the classroom saying, “Is he here?” She went right to the box and started peeling back the tape.

Kate’s sister, Kim, who shares Kate’s uneasiness about chickens, asked, “You’re not taking him out in here, are you?”

“Oh, Mrs. <Name>,” Hailey said, “it’s just a chicken!”

Hailey’s first assessment was, “He’s so little!” and then “He’s really tame.”

I felt good about the latter. We must have raised him right. I said to Kate, “She must have known he is a small breed if she’s got a Polish crested hen."

“I think she was comparing him to  her other roosters,” Kate replied. “And she didn’t know how old he was.”

I didn’t know either, off the top of my head. We figured it up later to be 7 months. Perhaps he still will get bigger.

Jackie was admired by all, “although,” said Kate, “some of them said he couldn’t be a chicken because his feathers are weird—quote.”

Kate sent me a picture of Hailey, looking very pleased, and Jackie, looking not so pleased. I know he never had a hug like that from us. We are all feeling good about how well this worked out for everyone.

Jackie and Hailey

I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving!
p.s. This is my 100th post!