I've had chickens around pretty much ever since I was a kid. This may seem odd to some of you, but we never did name any of our chickens. In fact, when you've got a whole flock of Rhode Island Reds, it's pretty darn tough telling one from another.
Nope. To be quite honest, chickens don't make very good pets. You can't housebreak 'em. They're dumber than a Dixie cup. That's probably why you don't see any trained chicken acts, seeing eye chickens, herding chickens, or guard chickens.
Sure, raccoons, skunks, weasels, and foxes love chickens. That's why you learn to build chicken runs out of galvanized mesh instead of the stuff they market as "chicken wire" or "poultry netting." (Raccoons can bite through that stuff in less time than O.J. took to track down the real killer.)
All of our chickens have been and are raised for a specific purpose...either eggs or meat. After they've been laying for a good solid year or so, I get a new batch at the feed store and send the old girls to the happy hen house in the sky. (For you non-poultry enthusiasts, egg production starts dropping off fairly quickly after a good year. Remember, these gals ain't pets.)
We get more eggs than we can use from our hens, so we trade eggs for honey to the folks across the road who raise bees on their farm. Works out pretty good.