I am not sure that I can say this with much certainty, but I think the chickens preferred adventure novels best. I remember reading them passages from Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, The Jungle Book, and Charlotte’s Web. The adventure novels, I thought, helped the chickens relax. With each word I could see their feathers flatten, their walk become a little slower, and their clucks morph into a strange purr. The chickens and I were adventurers at heart. Continue reading →