Stevie and her two siblings were the first chickens I ever fostered. I brought them home from a local animal shelter in 2021, not knowing how much one tiny hen would change my perception of chickens forever.
Stevie was the loudest of the trio from day one, so I named her after one of my favorite musicians, Stevie Nicks. It suited her perfectly — she had star energy.
I live on a large property in Malibu that I treat like a mini sanctuary. Ever since I was a child, I’ve felt compelled to rescue animals whenever I could. If I had a bit of allowance money, I’d spend it at the pet store bringing someone home. If I saw an animal in need, I’d try to help.
But Stevie was different from the start.
A Buff Orpington With Big Personality
Stevie, a Buff Orpington hen, had confidence that far outweighed her size. The moment she arrived, she carried herself like she owned the yard.
More surprisingly, she gravitated toward my six dogs. Not cautiously — enthusiastically.
She followed them around, ran with them and even tried to mimic their behavior. Sometimes I’d find her curled up in one of their beds inside the house. If the dogs lounged in the sun, she lounged. If they sprinted across the grass, she sprinted too.
And she loved being picked up. She’d trot over to me, let me scoop her into my arms and promptly fall asleep in my lap — just like a puppy.
I hadn’t expected that kind of bond. I’d imagined chickens keeping to themselves, scratching quietly in the yard. Instead, Stevie was affectionate, expressive and deeply social.
She completely reshaped how I see chickens.
Eggs in the Bookshelf
Her quirks didn’t stop there.
Though she had a perfectly nice coop outside, Stevie preferred laying her eggs in the most unexpected places — on bookshelves, inside dog kennels, tucked behind furniture.
Every day felt like an Easter egg hunt.
At first, my dogs weren’t sure what to make of her. I kept a close eye on them in the beginning. But within a week, something shifted. They accepted her as part of the pack.
She wasn’t a chicken to them. She was just… Stevie.
Knowing When to Let Go
As much as we adored having her, I knew a single chicken — even one who loved dogs — would benefit from a larger flock.
After a year and a half, I made the difficult decision to move her to a friend’s property, where she would live among more than 30 chickens, along with two dogs. It felt like the right place for her to thrive.
Letting her go wasn’t easy.
But when I visit, she still recognizes me. She runs toward me the same way she used to — quick, determined, joyful.
I’ve rescued many animals over the years. Each one leaves a mark.
But Stevie was special. She was a chicken who thought she was a dog, who slept in dog beds and laid eggs wherever she pleased.
And I’m not sure I’ll ever meet another one quite like her.