The Now Not so Random Chicken Report
By: J. Annaliese Hawkins
Illustrated by: Joey Langford
Based on true events (mostly. Also, sorry to disappoint you, but there are no flying pigs.)
Everybody had left the Thanks-give-a-gain party on the Saturday after Thanksgiving. Now that all the guests had left, it was time to take care of the thankful^1 job of animals. When I walked over to the gate, I heard a rustle in the bushes yonder. A bear? No. A coyote? Possibly. A vicious animal out to eat me? Most likely not, but still. I hurried down the hill, leaving the unsettling thoughts behind me. As I reached the chicken coop, I heard another rustle. I looked around fearing for my life. The goats, it was just the goats. I tucked them in noting the black hen in the corner of the vast room and rushed to the chicken coop. There were only 8 chickens left. 3 down, not good. I double and triple counted on both my fingers and toes just to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. Still only eight chickens. Sprinting up the hill, I rushed through the back door demanding an explanation from my dad. He calmly stated that the dog had escaped again and taken out three more chickens while I was at band practice (eating pizza^2. How ironic. Just kidding, that’s not irony.) I took a deep breath and headed up to bed.
To be continued…
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1. It was a very forced thankful mind you, but with it being thanksgiving I thought I should have thankful words at the least.
2. The pizza wasn’t the important part. It was who I was eating the pizza with. . .
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