This requires an explanation.
After spending a good bit of time tucked away with a reluctant-to-sleep Guthrie, I emerged to a very quiet house. Nothing out of the ordinary about that. E-man gets engrossed in building and painting during his afternoon “quiet” hour. But then, from the quiet, came a peculiar noise, sort of like a chicken, but surely not a chicken. The quiet returned and thoughts of chickens were dismissed. Many minutes of silence later, I climbed to the loft to find E-man quietly hugging, you guessed it, a chicken. E-man was proud. I was tickled. He proceeded to explain his plan for his feathered friend. You see, E-man has a collection of stuffed birds and a preoccupation for building nests. His birds are sadly lacking eggs. Who better to remedy this situation than our best layer? So the chicken sat on the bird nest, cuddled with E-man, took a stroll under the sewing machine table, and jumped on the carpet (but I told her to stay on the wood floor, E-man assured me).
Together we returned the chicken to the coop. I pointed out how important it is to keep the coop door shut to preserve heat. E-man assured me he understood, but he could not, after all, close the coop door when he was holding a big chicken. He asked whether I thought the chicken liked being held. It sure seemed that way. She was still, quiet, in no rush to change her situation. He wondered if the chicken loves him as much as he loves her and I am not sure how to answer. E-man did ask for chicken on the bone for dinner earlier that day. Maybe the chicken loves him more.