Chicks

I was so sad when my pet chick went to heaven last Thursday.

When I came home that night and saw that she was no more, my tears flowed down like broken pearls ...... thinking: Why do you still want to go to heaven? I've been so good to you!

When I got to the entrance of the park, I saw an old uncle picking two baskets of yellow fluffy pixies, the left basket was a chicken and the right basket was a duckling. I pestered my mom to ask for two of them. At first, mom and dad just didn't agree. Later, my mother could not stand my pestering and finally bought a chicken and a duckling. I was so excited to hold them, lest they fall. In this way, they became a pair of my best friends and lived happily in my house. However, on the third morning after returning, the duckling went to heaven ......

My chickens, talkative

My chick, fluffy and yellow-orange, looks like a yellow ball of fluff. When you touch it, it's soft and supple, like touching a ball of cotton.

Every day when we came back, as soon as she heard the sound of opening the door, the chick would chirp loudly as if to say, "Master, you can come back, come and see me!" If we ignore her and don't look at her, she will scream even louder, as if in protest: "Master is bad, the master is bad, ignore me!"

If we go over to her, her voice becomes small and clear, as if ingratiating, "Master is so nice, the master is so nice, I am hungry, get me something to eat!"

After eating, she lifted her head and looked at me with her black eyes, then screamed a few more times, as if to pout, "Master, I'm full, hurry up and get me some water to drink!"

My chick is very smart, she always loves to talk, mom and dad are sometimes annoyed with her, they think she is too noisy. But I am not annoyed at all, I just like to listen to her talk.

My chick, who loves to walk

After she's had enough to eat and drink, she likes to take a walk.

Sometimes when she talks, dad feeds her with lots of millet. But she still squawks loudly, as if reminding us, "Master, master, take me for a walk quickly, otherwise, I will get indigestion and burst!"

Every time, saw her like this, I took her out of the nest and put her on the wooden floor of our house. At this point, the floor becomes her walking place. She looks very cute on her walks, with her head high, her little fluffy chest out, her little square steps gracefully, her little black eyes looking left and right. Sometimes he would say excitedly: "Walking is so happy, much more comfortable than staying in the nest!"

Once, as she was walking, her butt suddenly stumbled upwards. "Mom, what does she want?" I said curiously. Then, just as quickly, a small, soft, black pile of poo popped out of her butt! "Huh? The chick has pooped!" I exclaimed. Mom gloated and said, "Your pet, you clean it up!" I had to grab a paper towel and "wipe its butt"!

My chicken, who loves to jump high

Since the chicken came to my house, I built her a beautiful villa - a small cardboard box, inside a layer of newspaper carpet, this carpet should be changed once a day. However, the chicken does not seem to like the cottage at all. Put her in, she will keep jumping out, a look to escape the posture. The way she escaped was like jumping high: she spread her wings, bent her legs, and then, with her wings fluttering, she jumped upwards with all her might. However, many times she dropped a butt squat, escape, and did not succeed. Occasionally, she was able to jump out and then proudly called up: "Master, look how great I am, the high jump was successful!"

My little chicken, disabled

One day, when I came home from school, the chick was crowing hard and louder than usual. I rushed over to see what was going on. "Ah! Why is the chick's leg broken?" She was lying in the nest in pain, her eyes full of sorrow. I helped her up, but she flopped twice and fell back down. I took a closer look and found that two of the four claws on each of her feet were hooked inward, bent like a small scythe. No wonder she couldn't stand up.

Later, my mom and dad said that she probably broke her bones while practicing the high jump. This problem still haunts me today.

Soon after, on the fourth day, when I came home from school, I didn't hear the chick's cries. I was a little surprised and rushed over, "Ah! The chick is dead!" I shouted. Her body had become hard and cold, and I couldn't help but cry ......

Alas, poor little chicken, are you okay in heaven? Now that I can't hear your cries at home, I feel very quiet, lonely, and out of place. Next spring I will also get you back ......