A couple years back we bought chickens. They were great for eggs and entertaining Kash (she became quite the wrangler/whisperer). Every flock has its king shit. Ours was a chicken who’s callsign was Bearded Lady, because of the “black beard” she had. She was an Americana (Easter egger), kept the other ladies in line and was willing to let you pick her up. She was always the first one out of the run, and the easiest one to get back in. Kash would always catch her and carry her around the yard.
One day Krissi and I were watching Kash play with the chickens in the backyard from the porch. Kash had a cucumber she was munching on. Bearded Lady followed her around, wanting some of it. Kash obliged, taking a bite then sharing it with Bearded Lady. This went back and forth until the cucumber was gone. My wife and I just looked at each, shrugged and chuckled at the situation. Kids.