AUTISM | NEURODIVERSITY | PARADIGM SHIFT | LIFE | MENTAL HEALTH

Because Dogs Don’t Lay Eggs

Understanding neurodiversity through a paradigm shift

How does it feel to be autistic? For me, it is a lot like being a chicken when everyone else in your family was expecting a puppy for Christmas.

Sometimes life and Christmas don’t give us what we expect. Maybe you were hoping for a puppy, but you got a chicken instead. Somewhere there must have been a mixup. But it’s too late now. You are “stuck” with a chicken. No soft warm fur to stroke and groom. No adorable looks and happy dancing paws. No sweet puppy dog licks.

You might as well call your friends and let them know

Then you can at least receive some sympathy. You’re going to need it more than you can imagine. You will also likely get plenty of advice on how to at least make your chicken appear to be a dog. (Yes, there are leashes so you can walk your chicken. That might be a good place to start.)

People may offer suggestions for how to “fix” your chicken, “cure” your chicken, even “heal” your chicken from its chicken-ness. They might tell you that you really have a dog, but it is simply “suffering from chicken-ness.” They may even offer to help you organize a “war on chicken-ness.”

How could someone as good as you be given a chicken instead of a puppy for Christmas? Thoughts and prayers, my friend. Thoughts and prayers.

In the end, your friends will leave you alone with just your chicken

It has nothing to do with you or the endless hours you spend whining and complaining about being given a chicken instead of a dog. People just don’t feel all that comfortable around chickens. It makes them realize they might one day receive a chicken instead of a dog too.

Chickens don’t learn tricks. They don’t obey commands. Chickens don’t fetch sticks or carry around tennis balls. They don’t follow you everywhere you go — unless you’re carrying some treats like a can of worms.

You’re going to be constantly wondering what your chicken is thinking because they don’t have cute facial expressions. They don’t perk up their ears in an adorable way. Although your chicken will not drool all over you or lick your face, your chicken will also not feel obligated to let you know how it is feeling every minute of the day. And that may crush your self-esteem.

Perhaps worst of all, your chicken won’t let you know it has to “go.” Your chicken won’t scratch and whine at the back door. Your chicken will just “go.”

Whenever. Wherever. However much it needs to.

Having a chicken may not ruin your life, but it will definitely ruin your carpet.

Your chicken is going to be a chicken no matter what you do

You might think your chicken is being stubborn — even willfully disobedient, but it isn’t. It can’t be anything other than what it is. A chicken. It’s not your fault. It’s not your chicken’s fault.

The best you can hope for is that your chicken will pretend to be a dog whenever you have company over. Then when you and your friends are busy doing whatever you and your friends do, your chicken will go up into its coop and secretly do its own chicken-y things when no one is looking.

Your chicken will feel depressed at being a huge disappointment to you but will never tell you. Your chicken will love you even if you don’t love your chicken.

You wanted a dog, but you got a chicken

Life can be cruel. You will just have to learn to love that chicken and all its chicken-ness. If you have a conscience, you really have no other choice. You can’t regift a chicken. They are impossible to wrap.

Over time, you will slowly notice some things changing. The lack of dog-ness won’t bother you nearly so much. And the chicken-ness won’t seem like such a terrible burden to you any longer.

Then your chicken won’t be stressed out because you’re not stressed out. It will come and sit in your lap or snuggle up inside your jacket just like any dog might do — except in a chicken-y sort of way.

And without having to “go” in your jacket.

Best of all, your chicken will come and stand on you shoes

You might not think much of it, but to a chicken this is huge. It is catching-a-Frisbee-in-midair huge.

Dogs want to catch your Frisbee. Chickens want to stand on your shoes.

Standing on your shoes means I love you. I love you the most. (Just check out the competitive stare-down between Bessie and Amelia in the photo above.)

It makes no sense unless you are a chicken.

And the outcome?

Eventually, after spending a fortune on therapy and counseling, you will realize that you didn’t really want a dog after all. You only wanted something to love. And chickens are every bit as lovable as dogs.

And you will realize that you love your chicken. You love your chicken just the way you yourself have always wanted to be loved — unconditionally.

And you will see that it was a good thing you got a chicken after all because dogs don’t lay eggs.

Will I be able to keep my promise to have the word “chicken” at least once in every Medium story? Find out by subscribing to Medium today as a reader or writer — or both!