Some people have dogs or cats. I had a pet chicken when I was in 4th grade. No, I didn’t live out in the country. I lived in the city along a business route. Why would a city kid have a chicken?
Here’s how it came about:
My aunt and uncle were coming to visit. As they were traveling there was an accident. I don’t know the details of the accident. All I know is that a truckload of chickens was involved and there were chickens running loose. My uncle captured on of the chickens, put it in his car and brought it to me for a pet. I was thrilled. I carried that chicken around in my arms and “loved on it”(as much as a chicken will allow “loving on”). If my chicken got out of my sight I would go out in the yard and yell for it. The neighbors would be out on their porches laughing at me trying to get that chicken to come to me. (I didn’t find out until 9th grade why they found that so comical)
My pet chicken layed eggs on the sidewalk. We never got to eat one of her eggs because, of course, the shell would crack when it hit the sidewalk.
There came a day when my pet chicken was nowhere to be found. I searched the neighborhood calling for it but it never came. While we were eating supper I mentioned that my chicken was missing. Nobody said anything. They just looked down at their plates. I looked down at my plate and then suddenly it dawned on me…we were having fried chicken! 
I was horrified. As an adult I can laugh about it (sort of) but as a child I was heart-broken and I looked at my family as heartless cannibals for a long time after that. I still don’t think we should have eaten that chicken.
Now for the rest of the story:
I was sitting in Citizenship class (9th grade)daydreaming. My thoughts wandered back to that pet chicken. I remembered Uncle Clarence placing that chicken lovingly into my arms. Then I remembered that chicken pecking my hand. It kinda hurt. Right then and there I named that chicken “Pecker”. No wonder the neighbors were falling off their porches laughing when I yelled for him/her. Now why didn’t somebody tell me that my name choice was innappropriate?
Darlajune.com 
I love your chicken story. I have a pet chicken named Phoebe, a much more appropriate name than the one you chose. I keep a “Phoebe Log” and email the “exciting” ephisodes to friends. The amount of drama involved when owning a pet chicken is amazing.
I’ve always wanted a pet chicken. I drove by a farm today and saw some, and thought about this story. I just now read some of it to Tyler. He thinks Pecker is a great name for a chicken. So do I. Perhaps if we move out of Lincoln we’ll get a chicken and say it’s for Josie.
Melissa,
Please don’t name it Pecker! Cause if you do, Josie will be running around yelling it just like I did. 🙂
This message comes from Belmont Park Race Track in Long Island, New York.
I am a rider there, and one of my joys is to see the wild chickens on the grounds in the stable area every day. They have been part of the Belmont Park history, but it hasn’t always been a happy one.
These chickens are not wanted by everyone. Every year, their numbers multiply rapidly and they must be culled back.. murdered. From the point of view of horsemen, yes, it’s not a good thing when your 10 million dollar race horse spooks from chickens dropping out of the trees in the morning, dumps his rider and runs around loose, possibly injuring himself and/or the rider.
I love and respect the chickens, too, however, and wish to see them happy. Instead of culling them back with murder, perhaps other chicken lovers may help us concerned to REMOVE ALL the chickens from Belmont to other places and allow everyone to live in peace.. WITHOUT being culled through murder every year.
I am a rider, and I don’t have a farm to offer. I must live in apartments between New York and Florida.
What could be done to help humanely relocate the Belmont Park chickens and find them a good home? They are beautiful, colorful and sweet. Such a assortment of colors, the roosters, hens and chicks. I never knew chickens until I came to Belmont, and I have grown to love them so. Please help.
If you have any ideas as to how I might being organinzing, please contact me. Once some places of refuge and transport may be arranged, I can contact the New York Racing Association with a proposal.
I cannot stand the though of killing these sweet intelligent chickens every year, but I don’t want my bones to get broken either.
Help me come up with a solution.
Yours,
Anna Martinovsky
352 572 7654