Emma's Pets

Emma frequently reminds me that she is our "middle child" and feels that placement is unjust as she suffers both neglect and too much attention from her younger siblings. One of her biggest trials has been the "only" one in the family to not have her own pet. Noah has a lizard, Tessa has the dog, Elizabeth has the cat...
I have done my best to reason with her explaining that while we did acquire a cat for Elizabeth and Dash came to live with us because of Tessa, these pets truly are for the entire family. These explanations worked for a couple of years. I tried a new tactic explaining that we did not have the space for another pet. This no longer is a valid excuse. I then explained that pet ownership is a HUGE responsibility and one needs to prove worthy of such a stewardship. Emma seemed to understand this reason the best. So every time she would throw a tantrum, I could say something to the effect of, "Emma, this behavior does not demonstrate your readiness to become a pet owner." She usually calmed down.
For several months now, she has come to me privately to hear my assessment of her progress. I started to panic because she truly was improving her disposition and demonstrating responsibility. I was running out of stalling tactics.
So when Emma returned from a friends house one afternoon excitedly relating to me her experience with their chickens, I contemplated a new idea....
I recall being young and living in Southern California in an extremely urban area and yet we had chickens. They were mean and nasty and I was terrified of them. Yet, it was often my job to collect the eggs. Being the oldest, I could force my brother to come with me to hold the nasty beasts back while waving a stick at them while I hurriedly grabbed the eggs. I hated this. I hated the smell and I hated the chickens. I especially hated fall when the chickens would be too old to lay eggs and that meant they would be readied for dinner. I don't want to describe the images that still haunt me...let's just say that I did not eat chicken until adulthood.
While I did not like being a chicken farmer, I thought perhaps Emma might. The need and desire to be self-sufficient seemed good reasons for having our own chickens and enabling Emma to call an animal her own would be a bonus.
We now, or rather, Emma is now the proud owner of 2 pet hens: Posie and Roxy.

Ray has threatened Emma with the prospect of eating her pets if she fails to care for them properly. I have reminded him that one should only threaten if one will actually carry out the threat. He has become much more supportive and helpful to Emma in her responsibility.