A couple of years ago, Roy brought home a day old chick that had been hatched by an owl (long story). The owl had the little chick cornered in her mew trying to force feed it raw meat. She had no way of knowing this was not really a baby owl. Roy rescued it and brought it home to me and informed me that I could have one chicken (and ONLY one) that I could get “personal” with. The girls and I called it “little chicky” waiting to name it until after we found out if “it” was a him or a her. By the time we knew, “Chicky” had stuck. She is my pride and joy, a beautiful Buff Orpington, with a very lovely personality.
We raised her in the house for longer than we should have. (My husband loves me very much). We kept her contained unless we had her out playing with her, which is more often than I should admit. When she was out, she would run around happily for a little while and then wait for me to sit down so she could climb up my leg, then my arm, and sit on my shoulder or my head. She would ride there until I made her get off.
I have raised chickens up to several weeks in the house before, but never long term. I found an interesting thing that I am curious about and wonder if it would happen again if the situation was duplicated. We did not know what kind of chicken we were raising, only that it was one of several breeds, none bantams. However, Chicky stopped growing at bantam size. She was healthy and very happy, just very small. She stayed this way for several months. Finally, Roy laid down the law and Chicky was evicted. He did build her a very beautiful chicken tractor to ease the pain, though. He even reinforced the wire to ensure she would be very safe. Much to our suprise, Chicky began to grow. She grew alot. She is a very big chicken. I don’t know if it was lack of fresh air and sunshine or the more confined space she had in the house, but I learned that chickens probably belong outside.