Eating and walking were very difficult. Nothing came as naturally to me as it seemed to come to the others. I had to turn my head sideways to pick up grain, using my beak as a shovel and my foot as a broom to get anything in. This just didn’t feel right, and I knew, instinctively it wasn’t.
“Appetite starts with the eye.”
SHERRY YARD | CHEF
My first lesson had to be on eating—how to eat, what to eat, and who not to eat. I tried to act “normal,” ignoring the chicks who were laughing at me. Of course, Mammie didn’t know I learned this, nor did she realize how obnoxious my newfound friends and siblings could be. It wasn’t just them; I drew a crowd. The turkeys and roosters came to watch and laugh as Mammie showed me how to pick up grain, cluck, peck, and strut.
You could say this was my first lesson in eating humble pie.
It was all so horrible. I’d do my best to eat like everyone else, and someone would yell, “Look at how she eats!”
I’d try to walk like everyone else, and another would imitate the way I was walking. I didn’t expect things as basic as eating and walking to be so miserable to learn. They didn’t seem miserable to anyone else.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish