Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Pollito... Chicken...

The other day, the hubby and I were telling eachother stories and I suddenly remembered my first pet - when I was a little girl, I had a pet chicken.

When my husband didn't believe me, I called my mother who retold the story of my chicken. Unfortunately, she couldn't remember it's name, but she told me that it was given to me when I was a little girl and we raised it in our basement apartment.

Once, it ran away and I cried for days. But soon, it was found, and I was happy again.

Me at age 2, when I had a pet chicken


Some time later, I'm told, my father took my baby chicken, who had grown into a full sized chicken, killed it, and cooked it.

Thirty years later, my mother tells me I ate my pet chicken.

Good thing I can't remember what I named it, or I would need therapy.

5 comments:

Gary said...

You had the same sweet face then that you have now. I guess you don't have a pet chicken anymore.

Amy said...

Were you in Miami or New Jersey? In certain parts of Miami, it's not rare to see a chicken running down the street.

acb said...

maybe that's why you don't like animals. and amy - my dad lives in miami and he tried the chicken rearing business for a while. until the rottweiler from his dog rearing business ate them all.

Annie said...

Gary - thanks! You're so sweet.

Amy - We lived in Jersey at the time.

ACB - But I loved my chicken! There's really no reason why I'm not an animal lover. I just don't really like them. Maybe cause I'm so cold hearted?

acb said...

Hmmm, maybe if you had an animal, you would love it. You just don't like other people's animals.