There's a particular kind of heartbreak that comes with loving something that has wings but mostly uses them for dramatic escapes. The r/chickens community knows this all too well, especially after the thread that asked folks to share photos of their favorite chickens who have passed, with the caption, "Chickens can fly; mine flew very high." One user, u/ExcellentCheek4750, put it even more simply: "Miss you a lot, baldie." And honestly? That's the whole clucking mood. We've been there. We've all had a baldie, or a nugget, or a Henrietta who ruled the yard with an iron claw and then left us with nothing but feathers and memories. It's a loss that hits harder than you'd expect from a bird that once tried to eat a slug off your shoe.
What we love about this thread is how it flips the script on the usual chicken content. Most of the time, we're here for the silly stuff: the six fluffy chicks that just hatched, or the Six fluffy chicks have hatched—egg-cellent news from our feathered friends! that make us coo. But this thread is different. It's a reminder that our feathered friends aren't just a punchline about fowl play or a source of fresh eggs. They're little characters with big personalities, and when they go, they take a piece of the coop with them. The caption about flying high is the perfect metaphor, because let's be honest, most chickens are about as aerodynamic as a brick. When they do manage to get airborne, it's either a miracle or a full-blown emergency. So when we say "flew very high," we're not talking about altitude. We're talking about the kind of joy that lifts you off your feet, the kind of ridiculous, feathery love that makes you forgive every scratched-up porch and stolen tomato.
We don't think this thread is just about mourning. It's about celebrating the fact that we *can* be this silly about something so small. It's a practical reminder that grief isn't reserved for the grand and majestic. Sometimes it's for the hen who followed you around like a dog, or the rooster who crowed at 5 AM every single day just to annoy you. If you're reading this and you're nursing a fresh wound, or an old one that still aches, we'd tell you this: don't let the sadness overshadow the ridiculousness. Remember the time she chased you for a strawberry. Remember how he tried to mate with your shoe. That's the stuff that keeps the memory alive. And if you're new to the chicken game, maybe look at your current flock and give them a little extra scratch. Because you never know when they'll decide to fly a little too high. Just ask the folks over at that Chickens Got Her Good! A Backyard Poultry Adventure post. They get it.
So here's the concrete point we're walking away with: the next time you see a chicken do something hilariously clumsy, don't just laugh. Take a mental photo. Because one day, you'll be the one posting a blurry picture of a bald-necked bird and writing a caption that breaks your own heart. And that's okay. That's the deal we make when we bring these ridiculous creatures into our lives. We cluck, we love, we lose, and then we post about it on the internet so a stranger named u/ExcellentCheek4750 feels a little less alone. Miss you, baldie. You flew high.