Pickles

Just before I caught the train back to Melbourne that day in May 2014, I had a quick walk around the small monthly market by the river. Along with the soap stalls and jam stalls was a poultry stall. Ducks, guinea fowl, roosters, hens all standing in small cages on the ground without any food or water and without any shade or resting places what so ever. The cage full of pullets tugged at my heart strings the most. About 8, 4 weeks old White Leghorn x New Hampshire pullets stood in a tiny cage, their little feet standing on their own poo with no food or water available. In a rage, I had a few words with the stall holder. After some heated “discussion” I walked away to clear my head and think on the situation. 45 minutes later I went back to the stall to find only two little pullets left in the cage. With a little bit of straight talking, I found myself walking away with the two little pullets. One little white girl and one little ginger and white girl. Their sweets little faces looked at me in complete fear as I put them into the car, they had no idea what lay ahead…they weren’t to know that they had just got so very lucky. Poultry are treated like this in markets all over the world. These birds are stuffed into small cages and placed out in full sun with no water or shade, it’s like they aren’t seen as living beings at all.

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I named these two sisters on the first day I met them. The full white girl I named, “Pickles” after a white budgie I had as a child. The white and ginger pullet I named, “Ginger”. Such beautiful little ladies who grew up before my eyes in to glorious hens whose love for life is contagious.

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Pickles is now a sparkling white hen who is obsessed with corn and sunflower seeds. She is a fantastic flyer (it’s the Leghorn in her) and flies over fences and gates constantly. She is one of Super Chicken’s favourite ladies and mostly always has the perch next to him at night.

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