HE WOULDN’T LET GO OF THE CHICKEN—AND I DIDN’T HAVE THE HEART TO TELL HIM WHY SHE WAS MISSING YESTERDAY 🐔💔
That’s Nugget.
She’s not just a chicken. She’s his chicken.
Every morning before school, he runs outside barefoot—even when it’s cold—to find her. He talks to her like she’s his best friend. Tells her about spelling tests and what he thinks clouds are made of. She follows him around like a little dog. Waits by the porch until he gets home.
At first, we thought it was cute. But then we saw it was so much more.
After his mom left last year, something changed. He stopped smiling. Barely touched his pancakes, and those used to be his favorite. He was quiet all the time.
Then Nugget showed up—this awkward puff of yellow that wandered into our yard from who-knows-where.
And something shifted.
He smiled again. Started eating. Sleeping better. Laughing. All because of this one silly bird.
But yesterday… Nugget disappeared.
We searched everywhere. Coop, woods, side of the road. Nothing. No feathers, no tracks. He cried himself to sleep, clutching her photo in his tiny hand.
Then this morning—there she was.
Just standing in the driveway like she’d never left. A little muddy, a scratch on her beak… but alive.
He scooped her up and held on so tight. Wouldn’t let her go. Not for breakfast, not for school, not for anything.
As I stood there watching, I noticed something tied around her leg.
A small red ribbon. Frayed at the edges.
And a tag I hadn’t seen before.