This week’s three posts feature marshmallow candy chicks called “Peeps”. They were one of the items I once stocked at a nearby Navy Commissary with a real friend of mine, Dennis.
If any of my chickens ever tried to disguise herself as a Peeps marshmallow candy chick, it would be Pearl!
From the day I brought Pearl and Blanche home from the post office, Pearl was different. (Yes, that’s where chickens come from…at least when you live in the city.) They were the only two raised by themselves, and that may have made some difference.
Pearl was always noisier and more active than Blanche, and she never seemed to be able to settle down. Pearl wanted to entertain and be entertained. Blanche just wanted to eat.
Mishaps just seem to follow Pearl even today. She can’t help but turn over the food dish or the water bottle or climb on top of Blanche or one of the others to get to where she wants to be. I don’t like to admit this, but Pearl was my least favorite of all my chickens. She didn’t fit my idea of what a chicken should be.
I hoped she would get better when she and Blanche were introduced to the other chickens, but she just got herself into more trouble. Scolding didn’t help, not from me or from the other chickens. Reasoning didn’t help. (Can you even reason with a chicken?)
I could tell she wanted to be good like the others especially because none of the others really wanted to be around her, not even when it was time to roost at night. She tried to be like the others with all she knew how to do, and then the next minute there would be another chicken calamity.
She was an outcast. Perhaps that’s what changed my mind about her.
Then I realized no matter what any of us did, she was going to be Pearl, and we really shouldn’t have been upset with her for being herself. Pearl simply loves being a chicken. Sometimes her exuberance and joy causes her to get carried away.
When we all started appreciating her for who she was, she actually began to calm down…well, somewhat!
Perhaps if she had been raised by a Mama Chicken instead of a Chicken Daddy, things would be different for her and she would have struggled less to be liked. Now she seems to understand how we appreciate her for being the crazy chicken she was hatched to be.
My Life With Gracie made me realize it’s never good to cover up who you really are just to be liked.
I will do my best to post each Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. Every “Like,” “Follow,” and “Comment” is truly appreciated!