A chicken and a crazy lady
|Having grown up on a dairy farm of two hundred forty acres we also had pigs, beef cattle, horses, chickens, pheasants, cats, and dogs all of my childhood.
God blessed me with the gift of relating to the animals. I could and still do feel what they feel and instinctively understand those things that aren't supposed to be understood.
At one point in life I had a home on three acres. I filled it to the brim with every kind of animal it was possible to have and sustain a good life for. I had Chicken Little who I had rescued from certain death.
En-route to work at the Casino where I was a Food Supervisor I got behind an eighteen wheeler transporting chickens. I had seen several chickens fly out and... swoosh!... up under a vehicle they would go to instant death. My heart was beating ninety to nothing trying to think of a way to let the driver know.
All at once one of the chickens that had fallen from the truck and underneath another vehicle rolled to the side of the road. I saw the chicken get up and wobble around dazed.
Okay, okay, so I couldn't help myself. I pulled off the busy four lane highway to see if I could get the chicken before she is run over. Well, she wasn't so co-operative. What does she do? She turns around and starts back into the highway and traffic!
So what do I do? Yep, that's right, I flag down four lanes of traffic and stop it to get the chicken trying to walk to the other side. Believe you me it gave a whole new meaning to why did the chicken cross the road!
So now I have traffic stopped and hear some unbecoming words being thrown my way. I catch up with the chicken and chase her back off the blacktop so traffic can commence again. I catch her and she is shaking and scared to death. Imagine that!
I call my supervisor and tell him I will be late coming in because I just rescued a chicken. I am sure it was the most original excuse ever and they knew me well enough to know it had to be the truth. Besides, everyone coming into the casino was reporting a crazy lady chasing a chicken in the middle of traffic. It's always nice to have witnesses for your excuse.
I carried my frightened chicken back to my home and put her in the pen with my turkeys, Sarah and Abraham. She had lost some feathers, but did not seem to have any broken bones or major injuries. I left her in the care of Sarah and Abraham for the night.
When I got home from work the next morning my hen was crouched in a corner of the pen. I took her out and called her Chicken Little, duh, because she fell out of the sky. She was my constant companion after that. She seemed to know I would not harm her and she never strayed far from me even when out of her pen. I bought some more chickens so she wouldn't be lonesome and I bought her a husband too. Leroy was a fine looking rooster and knew it.
He was king of the roost, but as in all cases, human or animal, mama rules the roost. Chicken Little would put him in his place in a minute, especially if he was caught pecking at her chicks.
Chicken Little and Leroy are both gone now, but still bring a smile to lots of faces when I tell others of how she got her name.