Did you know, chicks communicate with their mother hen from inside the shell?

Above is a photo of Johnny, and to the lower right here, Pope (I), who were both wonderful hens, with so much pride, dignity, and outright attitude. So much heart. Unfortunately, Johnny and Pope came down with a mysterious, severe ailment last year and I couldn't find anyone to help me. When I went to my local vet, they refused to "see a chicken". When I asked my local feed store for advice, they told me "just wait, and get two more chickens". It was awful. My pets were dying and no one would help me. No one cared at all, because they were chickens, not dogs or cats, and for some reason, in some people's minds, this made their lives less important.

Not to me though, and I struggled through the days trying to feed them and trying to figure out what was making them so ill. They wouldn't eat or drink, and were weak and listless- wasting away. I kept them in our bathtub and hand fed them; baby food, wet cat food, pedialyte, but they wouldn't improve. I couldn't get anyone to take me seriously enough to help me out with the problem, until finally I found a gentleman in Missouri who had raised chickens his whole life and recognized what my two girls had (necrotic enteritis) and recommended a medicine (BMD).

Unfortunately, the help came too late for little Johnny and Pope.
...One good thing is, with better knowledge of this ailment, the help from an expert (finally) and the proper medication, I have successfully prevented the rest of my flock from contracting this most virulent disease.   

To the left, you can see Bernie. She is a Bearded Appenzel Bantam, a little high strung, but she has been through a lot and has come a long way. We rescued her from an overcrowded, ill-maintained facility just south of here, where they grab their chickens by the legs, break their necks randomly, and certainly don't worry if they're being rained on or give them special raisin treats. Bernie is an outstanding example of the chicken's ability to learn, and to forgive. She was mistreated in that other place, but when she came to live here, over time, and through lots of attention and care, she has learned that I mean her no harm and that actually, I'm nice, and, though I'm a human, I can even be trusted.

When she first moved here, you couldn't even act like you were going to touch Bernie without causing her to panic. Now, I can pet her and she eats raisins and lettuce from my hand.

My point being, chickens can feel, reason, and learn; and any behavioral problems a chicken has is most likely due to the environment in which he/she is being kept.