It warms my heart to hear how many people are discoving the love of a good chicken. I used to eat them only a year ago, but a box full of the little fluff-balls changed my life.
I had ordered 1 miniture ornamental hen (bantie sultan) from a breeder over the net. When she arrived by mail, there were 15 babies, 6 of whom were Rhode Island Red rooster babies (like in the film Chicken Run.) The invoice said they had been included as packing material & to keep my little princess warm.
I could not tell my hen from all the other Sultan chicks, so I had to raise them all & wait to see who did not crow. I should have guessed it was the 1 with a deformed foot! (useless for them to win contests with.) The clock was ticking for my poor little red roosters, though. I could not keep them here in Hollywood due to the noise, but I was terrified that they would end up in soup or starring in those awful cock-fight videos they sell in the dodgy neigborhoods.
Finally, I found a vegetarian farm on the edge of the city that rescues abused farm animals (like a poor little pony-ride pony). They agreed to take in my roosters. Miraculously, one of the reds turned out to be a GIRL! So I got to keep my "Pwincess" (who is spoiled rotten) and big cuddly Desdemona (who jumps out of her mini-coop to make sure i wake up in the morning. She pulls on the blanket & clucks till I jump up to feed her.) The "kids" had their first birthday, & our boys have become local minor celebrities, appearing on the cover of the newspaper being hugged by kids. We no longer eat chickens (or cows or pigs, or sheep....) and we have a true appreciation for the individuality each chicken is born with (when I gave them to the farm, here's how I told them to distinguish the boys: "Jamaal is the sexy one, Finbar is the serious one, Ambrose is the confident one, & Shamo is the eccentric.")