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Gloria ran breathlessly to the other hens and announced, “Eagle is back!” Then she turned and ran behind the house.
Lucy paused and said, “Eagle? That’s pretty familiar.” Ethel just took off saying, “C’mon!”
When they got to the shady back side of the house, Gloria and Legal Eagle were waiting, and the big bird wasted no time. “I found the pigeon. He was leaving the home of a certain parakeet who gathers human intelligence from the bottom of his cage. He’s a reliable informant to the Feather Underground. The pigeon had an interesting piece of newsprint tied to his leg.”
“How did you get it?” Ethel queried.
“How do you think? I swooped in and grasped him with my talons in mid air! Then I brought him to earth!”
“Oh my!” Gloria fanned herself and looked dizzy. Lucy and Ethel glanced at one another.
“So,” Ethel resumed, “what did the note say?”
“No words. Just this photo.” Legal Eagle unrolled the tattered paper on the ground. It was the warden, posing with a giant chicken! Lucy and Ethel just gaped with their beaks wide open.
“What does this mean?!” Lucy demanded. “Did the pigeon have an explanation?” The Eagle looked away. “I’m afraid I got carried away and ate him.”
Ethel squawked, “YOU ATE THE WITNESS??” WHAT KIND OF LAWYER ARE YOU??”
“A hungry one, as it turned out. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to depose a blue jay.” And with that, he flew away.
Lucy was immediately in Gloria’s face, “what are you and the Eagle cooking up?” Gloria pooped. “You don’t seem to be surprised at any of this!”
Gloria gathered up her courage and calmly told the hens, “Eagle is going to take we away with him and out of this toxic workplace!”
“AND EAT YOU!” Ethel crowed. “That pigeon was just an appetizer, you fool!”
“No!” Gloria shook as she replied, “he cares for me!” Lucy and Ethel knew that it was time for another intervention.
Can the hens keep Gloria out of Eagle’s talons? Who is the big chicken that is in the picture with the warden? Stay tuned!
Keep up with past episodes of the Chicken Chronicles http://donaldmarsh.com/chicken-chronicles/
The warden went out to feed the chickens and Lucy and Ethel ran to meet him while clucking with excitement. He dumped the pellets in their dish and the two hens went at it with gusto. Two hens. Where was Gloria?
The warden strolled around the house, expecting to see her taking a dust bath somewhere. By the time he got back to the coop he was worried. Her wings had been clipped, so she couldn’t have flown out of the yard. Suddenly, he heard a hawk cry nearby and his heart sank. Had she fallen prey to a predator? He went to the feeding station to see if she had come back while he was looking for her.
He sighed when he saw that he still only had two chickens. But then he noticed something strange. The door to the coop was shut…and latched! How did that happen? Had the hens been locked out all night? He unlatched and opened the door. Gloria burst out and ran to the dish! She ate like a condemned bird, and the others stepped aside and pecked the ground. What a relief! But how did that happen? The warden shrugged and went inside.
As Gloria continued to gorge herself, Lucy moved in and said, “We did what we had to do.” Ethel came to the other side of Gloria and said, “Legal Eagle came looking for you yesterday afternoon, after the last egg gathering. We had to save you from him.”
“But he said he loved me,” Gloria whimpered between bites.
“He isn’t one of us. He can’t love you,” Lucy explained.
“That’s…that’s racist! Love is love!” Gloria sputtered. Ethel almost pecked her head for that, but she restrained herself.
Lucy patiently asked her, “Does the warden love you?”
“I-I don’t know.” Gloria looked confused.
“He likes you,” Lucy continued, “but he’s not one of us. One day, when you stop laying eggs, he might pluck you, roast you, and eat you. Legal Eagle would just fly you up to a tree top, rip you apart and eat you raw.” Gloria pooped.
“But we,” Lucy continued, “slept outside the safety of the coop to protect you. You are one of us.”
“So you love me?” Gloria was suddenly tearful.
Lucy and Ethel glanced at each other, rolled their eyes, and nodded. This made Gloria very happy. Suddenly she cried, “Look! Another pigeon!”
Yes, another carrier pigeon had arrived and sat on the window sill. He knocked on the window with his beak.
“I don’t want another pigeon on my conscience,” said Lucy. “We’re on our own here. The Eagle can’t help us.”
Will the hens be able to intercept this latest message? Can they get the pigeon to talk? Stay tuned!
After being sequestered for a couple of days for being broody, Lucy seemed herself and was let back out to forage and enjoy a dust bath. But the next day, when the warden went looking for eggs, he found Lucy in the nesting box, with that crazed chicken look, next to a freshly pecked egg! Exasperated, he threw her back into solitary. Then he went in and placed an order for new chicks. He had to plan for a future without Lucy.
Ethel saw that Lucy was shut up in the spare coop and ran to her. “What happened? What did you do?” Lucy just hung her head and didn’t look up.
“Hey!” called Gloria from the back of the main coop. “It’s one of your eggs, and it’s been pecked to pieces!” The warden had swept the broken egg out and onto the ground. Ethel scowled at Lucy.
“I’m sorry,” Lucy began, but Ethel squawked at her in a rage. “It was you!! You let me take the blame! You’re evil! I hope you get plucked, eaten, and your bones get scattered on the compost heap!” Lucy had nothing to say.
Ethel turned and marched off toward the front gate, and Gloria quickly followed. The young bird was worried that soon there would only be two of them. And they still had to solve the mystery of the pigeon. As she was hurrying to keep up with Ethel, a car came to a screeching halt in front of the gate. It was a welcome distraction.
The warden also heard the noise and came outside. An agitated, skinny old man with thick glasses and a ball cap came into the yard, leaving the gate open, and yelled, “Where is Speedy!” It was more a demand than a question.
“Who?” asked the warden.
“My pigeon! He was on his way here with a message for you, and he never came back!” This made Ethel’s and Gloria’s eyes get wide. The pigeon!
“That was your pigeon? I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks, since he came with your note about the bird flu.” Ethel was sure they were missing something. The bird flew where?
“Then, maybe he’s been intercepted! Maybe they are on to us!”
“They? Who are they?” The warden didn’t like the sound of this at all. Neither did his chickens. They knew that Legal Eagle had eaten poor little Speedy, but it sounded like there was a bigger bird to fear.
“There are powerful people in the government who want us to get rid of our birds! They say they could cause the next pandemic! They want my pigeons and your chickens dead!”
Gloria and Ethel both pooped.
Is Chiefland Chicken Correctional going to be turned into a death camp? Are our girls marked for death? Stay tuned!
Keep up with past episodes of the Chicken Chronicles http://donaldmarsh.com/chicken-chronicles/
Lucy was feeling alone and depressed. Ethel was furious with her because of her betrayal. She was no longer needed. She was lonely enough to talk to Chicken Little, that insufferably pious bird who was always clucking about a new world and the afterlife. Now that this life seemed to be over, she thought it might be good to reopen that investigation. So she clucked and clucked, hoping that her distress signal would be shared by the Feather Underground. It worked, sort of. The cardinal flitted to the side of the coop used for her solitary confinement.
“Yes, my child? Did you call?”
“”What happened to Little? I was hoping to get her,” Lucy said with noticeable disappointment.
“I know, but she is no longer available. I’m afraid she’s gone to the great free range in the sky!”
“What!? How!?” This was too much for Lucy. Now she just wanted to go be with her.
“A local fox, seeking who he may devour, sneaked up on her while her flock’s rooster was getting busy with one of the new birds that had just come of age.” Cardinal shook his head in disgust. Cardinals mate for life, but roosters have no morals at all.
Lucy was despondent. They didn’t have a rooster at all at Chiefland Chicken Correctional. Their only security was an old chihuahua that sleeps inside all day. What good was that? “I’m doomed!” she wailed.
Suddenly, Gloria and Ethel ran up to her coop breathlessly. The cardinal, easily spooked, flew away and blundered into the Chicken run! He could not find the way out as he kept slamming against the chicken wire enclosure.
“Lucy, we gotta talk!” Ethel was gasping.
“Not now! Can’t you see I’m busy?” Lucy watched the cardinal exhausting himself as he became more and more panicky.
“They’re gonna kill us all!” wailed Gloria.
“Tell em to get in line! Go help the cardinal get out of the run before he has a heart attack!” Lucy’s little chicken brain was overwhelmed with her own problems, the cardinal’s dilemma, and this new bad news.
Can the cardinal be saved? Will Lucy goad the warden into wringing her neck and ending it all? Stay tuned!
Keep up with past episodes of the Chicken Chronicles http://donaldmarsh.com/chicken-chronicles/
The warden saw that an egg had rolled down the escape ramp. The egg seemed lopsided. Was it broken? Had Lucy destroyed another egg? He touched it and was surprised that his finger sank into it! It was like an egg with no shell! He picked it up and looked at it. It was slightly larger than Gloria’s usually are. It wasn’t huge, like Ethel’s. Had Lucy laid this egg? She was the only chicken that he had to force to eat, so she could have a calcium deficiency.
He suddenly looked up when he heard a car coming to the end of the cul-de-sac. It was black and had a white tag on the front and some sort of emblem. It was a government vehicle and it made him forget the egg.
The door opened and a wirey middle-aged man with glasses and a bald head got out. He was wearing a navy suit and carrying an iPad. “I’m Carl Buzz’ard, field agent with the Department of Microbial Justice. My pronouns are he/him. Is this Chiefland Chicken Correctional?”
“Um, yeah,” the warden smiled sheepishly, “but it’s a joke.”
“Joke or not, this is how you are identified on Google Maps. And your name is…”
“Do you have a warrant?” The warden was incredulous that his sense of humor attracted this annoying bureaucrat.
“No, but I don’t need a warrant to do an avian wellness check!” He puffed his chest out with all the self-importance he could muster.
“A wellness check? My chickens are fine, Mr. Buzzard!”
“It’s Buzz’ard! The emphasis is on the second syllable!” He swelled up just a teensy bit more.
It was getting loud enough that Ethel and Gloria came around. It especially interested them at the mention of chickens.
“Whatever! Why would you care about my few chickens, anyway?”
“They could be vectors of disease!” He suddenly stepped back, startled by the hens’ approach. “They aren’t even masked!”
“You can’t mask a chicken!”
“Oh, yes you can! I’ll bring you some tomorrow!”
“I don’t want you to come back tomorrow! Or ever! Go waste my tax dollars somewhere else!”
“Oh, we spent your tax dollars long ago. We’re spending the dollars of people who haven’t even been born yet!” Carl Buzz’ard grinned triumphantly.
The warden saw that Ethel and Gloria had gathered with him at the gate. So he swung the gate open wide, pointed at Buzz’ard and yelled, “KILL! Leave no meat on his bones!” The chickens, not really knowing what was expected of them, advanced on the stranger, clucking and focusing on his shoe laces. The man kicked Gloria and the threat was over.
“Get out, Buzzard, before I misgender you!”
The warden felt bad about Gloria, who was hightailing back to the coop with Ethel. He should not have sent a hen to do a man’s job.
“I’ll be back! And I’ll have masks for those super spreaders!” And the imperious little man got in his car and left.
Does the federal government want to micromanage the girls? Will Gloria suffer from PTSD? Stay tuned!
Ethel and Gloria were huddled under a piece of pallet by the back of the house. It was next to a new section of fence that kept them from their usual spa, a cool, shady dust bath behind some azalea bushes. This was an unwelcome development for them. Lucy didn’t notice because she had gone broody, and was huddled in a nesting box with her crazy eyes darting around. No, the sane ones had new worries.
That man from the government chicken eradication authority had kicked Gloria last week. New baby chicks had arrived, peep peep peeping their stupid little heads off. And now this fence was cutting into their chicken paradise. It had the hens worried.
“He’s not replacing me!” Gloria shouted. “I lay an egg every day! I’m not like you…you…” Gloria sought for a nasty word, but couldn’t come up with one.
“Shut up, you idiot!” Ethel resisted the urge to peck her.
“Idiots!! Yes! That’s…no, there has to be something else.”
“Well, well, well.” Officer Plato stood mocking them from the other side of the new fence. “I guess I won’t have to put up with you avian airheads anymore. “
“Airheads! I like that!” Gloria turned a condescending eye toward Ethel. “I’m not like you airheads!”
Just then the warden came looking for his imperious little sidekick. “C’mon, little guy. Let’s get something to eat. And we have to get ready for your crazy cousins to get here.”
Plato looked over his shoulder as he trotted away. “Sorry you can’t come! We’re having chicken! HAHAHA!”
Ethel turned to Gloria and said, “Cousins? More dogs? Maybe dogs with teeth?”
“What are you talking about?” Gloria just looked confused.
Ethel just rolled her eyes and said, “You airhead.”
Are the hens in danger? Is Officer Plato being replaced? Stay tuned!
Early in the morning, before the warden came out to bring their feed, Gloria and Ethel were scratching through the compost heap. Suddenly, they heard Lucy scratching and pecking right behind them. This had not happened in several weeks, since Lucy had gone broody. She would hunker down in the nesting box all day. The warden would come out and get her and throw her in the chicken run! She would squawk about it, get some food and water, and then run over to the cold frame and throw a tantrum! The other hens avoided her.
“You OK? We haven’t seen you out early in a long time.” Ethel was the first to get close to her. Gloria still kept her distance.
“Yes. I’m much better,” Lucy replied brightly. “It’s good to be back.”
Gloria bravely aproached. “We heard you singing out in the yard yesterday. Wanna talk about it?”
“Sure. But I don’t know how to explain it. It was a spiritual experience.”
“You ate those beads the cardinal brought you?”
“Actually, that was me,” Goria admitted. “I thought they were seeds. Sorry!”
“No. The warden came to get me yesterday morning. I braced myself for the usual treatment. But instead he placed both his hands on me. Then he said things I didn’t understand. It sounded like he was talking to someone else. Then he told me to be a normal chicken!”
“I’ve been telling you that for months! What made this different?” Ethel was now amused.
“I think I was possessed by the Spirit of another bird!” Lucy was staring into space when she said it, and it made the other birds nervous.
“Lucy, I don’t want to hear any of this talk! Do you hear me? We need you in your right mind! Right now, you sound like a…a…”
“Biscuit case!” Gloria clucked with glee. Just then a car pulled up in front of the house. It was a red car. And a woman with two big dogs got out! She released them into the front yard, and they galloped to the fence that protected the chickens.
“You look tasty!” said the larger of the two. She was brown and had a long snout, and her mouth hung open and showed many sharp teeth. Gloria scratched the ground defiantly and squawked, “Airhead!”
Ethel assumed command and said, “Girls, we don’t pick fights with carnivors. Stand down!” Gloria was disappointed. She had learned more insults from the chihuahua.
Were these dogs diggers? Was this a permanent situation? Stay tuned!
Lucy, Ethel, and Gloria were trying to take in all the recent events. Their free range had been reduced. New dogs had been added. Four new chicks had taken over the blue coop. And now Ethel had started laying again. This made Lucy self conscious of her stalled egg production, especially since the four new birds were growing so fast. They would be laying by winter.
“Maybe they’re meat birds,” Gloria said to Lucy, trying to comfort her.
“Not a chance. Officer Plato told me the warden’s wife had to buy eggs recently. Those chicks are our replacements. ” Lucy swallowed hard. “She wants to put me in a roasting pan.”
“No. The warden likes you,” clucked Ethel. “If he didnt, they would have wrung your neck and plucked you a month ago.” Lucy and Gloria both shuddered.
The three hens went about their business, heads down, pecking and strolling past the blue coop. The chicks peeped enthusiastically at the three feathered giants as they marched past. Gloria hung back, letting Lucy and Ethel get out of earshot. Then she turned to the little ones.
“Hello, my children…”
“Mama mama mama!” They became frantic at Gloria’s attention.
“Hush!” And they were silent. Gloria continued, “You must listen to me, and me only. The big ones do not like you. The warden will keep you separated for awhile, until you get bigger. But then, they will peck you and chase you, and kill you if they can!”
The chicks began to peep madly as they ran in circles, bumping into each other. They were terrified!
“Shut up!!” Gloria thought she saw Lucy and Ethel turning back to see what was going on. “Me only,” she breathed out with menace, and the chicks halted and pooped all at once.
Is Gloria starting her own gang? Are Lucy and Ethel going to do anything about this? Stay tuned!
Less than a week after Lucy’s sudden deliverance from pathological broodiness, she and Ethel both started laying eggs regularly. That hadn’t happened in over a month. During this time, Gloria had been laying every day, and had started an insufferable preening, acting like the queen of the coop. But this sudden burst of productivity rocked her confidence. She felt the need to firm up her relationship with her future minions, the four brainless peeps that were rapidly growing and feathering out.
“Hello, my children,” Gloria trilled at her twitching groupies.
“Mama, mama, mama!” They pressed themselves in intoxicated adoration against their cage. Gloria rolled her eyes and shook her head in disdain.
“Get a grip, little fools! We must be patient. Our time will come, but you are not yet ready. Eat! Stuff yourselves!” They immediately obeyed.
Meanwhile, Lucy and Ethel were watching. “What is going on here?” Lucy clucked in her low voice. “Let’s investigate.”
Gloria sensed their approach and headed over to the compost heap, regretting that she had been noticed. Lucy advanced to the little chicks in the cage and they lost their minds, running in circles and colliding like popped corn.
“What is your problem?” Lucy demanded.
“You’re going to peck us and eat us!” And they pooped in unison.
“Who told you that?”
“Mama!” And their empty little heads all turned at once to look at Gloria.
“She’s not your mama, you little morons! She is a different breed than you are. Actually, you look more like me.” Then Lucy was inspired. “I’m your real mama!” And pandemonium ensued as the little dunderheads rejoiced at the discovery of their birth mother. Or so they thought.
Gloria sighed sadly as she watched the transfer of loyalty from those fickle feather heads. Ethel sidled up to her said, “That didn’t go well, did it, you little traitor.” Before Gloria could respond, Ethel pecked her sharply, and the chicks peeped happily.
“That’s enough,” Lucy called out. “There will be plenty of fresh birds to peck when these grow up.” And the little ones stopped celebrating. Lucy turned to them and continued, “You have no mammas here.”
Will the new chicks be traumatized? Or will this harden them against the brutality of the flock? Stay tuned!
One morning the warden got all energetic and rearranged the chickens’ world. He moved the blue coop, where the little peeps live, over by the main coop. Then he dragged the chicken run over in front of the blue coop, and connected them with a chicken wire tunnel, and released the peeps into this new, larger environment. Lucy and Ethel were amused by this, until they realized they were now shut out of the 9 foot by 10 foot enclosure that used to be their home.
“For peeps sake! We’re locked out!” Lucy clucked crossly.
“We knew this was coming. We still have free range over the rest of the yard,” Ethel said with a shrug.
“But we now have less space! We had this space and the yard! And, since those new dogs moved in, even the yard we had is smaller!” Lucy sputtered. “It’s a rip-off!”
“Well…,” said Gloria in her most condescending tone, “The warden put up that fence to protect us from the dogs. Now he’s closed off the run to protect those children from mean old…OUCH!”
Lucy spat out a feather and said, “Keep it in your beak!”
“See what I mean!?” And Gloria got away from the two old hens.
“Y’know,” Ethel changed the subject. “What if one of them turned out to be a rooster?”
“Is that possible?” Lucy brightened at the thought. “I know the warden doesn’t want a rooster.”
“Yeah, but it’s so hard to tell when they’re little.” Ethel leered and said, “Mistakes get made. One of those sweet little knuckleheads could grow up to be a lean, mean, strutting machine.”
“You two are disgusting!” Gloria screeched at them. “They are just children, you brooder robbers!”
“They won’t always be children,” Ethel said with a grin.
“No,” Lucy replied through a hormonal haze, “They won’t. Will they?”
“No wonder you’re in prison!” Gloria stalked off indignantly while Lucy and Ethel savored the thought of rooster romance.
Is there toxic masculinity in the air? Is it all just wishful thinking? Stay tuned!
Lucy, Ethel, and Gloria were trying to take in all the recent events. Their free range had been reduced. New dogs had been added. Four new chicks had taken over the blue coop. And now Ethel had started laying again. This made Lucy self conscious of her stalled egg production, especially since the four new birds were growing so fast. They would be laying by winter.
“Maybe they’re meat birds,” Gloria said to Lucy, trying to comfort her.
“Not a chance. Officer Plato told me the warden’s wife had to buy eggs recently. Those chicks are our replacements. ” Lucy swallowed hard. “She wants to put me in a roasting pan.”
“No. The warden likes you,” clucked Ethel. “If he didnt, they would have wrung your neck and plucked you a month ago.” Lucy and Gloria both shuddered.
The three hens went about their business, heads down, pecking and strolling past the blue coop. The chicks peeped enthusiastically at the three feathered giants as they marched past. Gloria hung back, letting Lucy and Ethel get out of earshot. Then she turned to the little ones.
“Hello, my children…”
“Mama mama mama!” They became frantic at Gloria’s attention.
“Hush!” And they were silent. Gloria continued, “You must listen to me, and me only. The big ones do not like you. The warden will keep you separated for awhile, until you get bigger. But then, they will peck you and chase you, and kill you if they can!”
The chicks began to peep madly as they ran in circles, bumping into each other. They were terrified!
“Shut up!!” Gloria thought she saw Lucy and Ethel turning back to see what was going on. “Me only,” she breathed out with menace, and the chicks halted and pooped all at once.
Is Gloria starting her own gang? Are Lucy and Ethel going to do anything about this? Stay tuned!
Gloria pecked the ground alone. The others were chatting up the four Littles, hoping a couple of them were roosters. Gloria had been trying to get the Littles under her wing; become her posse. But Lucy and Ethel stepped in and took over, like they always do. They were bossy old biddies and treated her like she was something less.
She thought about this past spring, when she was smitten with Legal Eagle. Those jealous old ladies convinced her that he was a predator, just because he ate that carrier pigeon. But, if they were right, they had saved her life when they locked her in the coop. Maybe she should stop competing with them, and just try to be their friend. So she trotted over to Ethel, since Lucy was busy flirting and posing for the underage chickens. Ugh.
“Hey, kid.” Ethel seemed to be in a good mood. So Gloria accepted the goodwill gesture.
“So, can you tell if they’re males?”
“Not yet,” Ethel said with a casual air. “There’s plenty of time. At some point the warden will let them out, and then we’ll sort it out.”
“I guess it would be nice if we each got one..”
“Bawk!” Ethel laughed out loud. “One would be enough for all of us!”
“What!?” Gloria shuddered. “You mean, we’d all share one?”
“Of course! We’re not like those pious little cardinals, mating for life!” Ethel clucked, while scratching the ground excitedly.
“No, we are wild and crazy chickens!” Lucy squawked as she joined the conversation. “And we’ll make sure you get roosted!”
Ethel laughed so hard she shot a seed out her nose. “Lucy! You are bad!” And both cackled hysterically as Gloria snorted, trying to fit in. Was ‘roosted’ even a word?
“You fat feather dusters disgust me!” Officer Plato had been eavesdropping on the other side of the fence. “You make me glad I got fixed!” And the chickens just went bananas.
Meanwhile, the Littles gathered close together and watched in fascination. “So, who’s gonna tell them?” said one. “Tell them what?” said another. “Never mind.”
What if there are no roosters? Will Gloria be relieved? Will Lucy and Ethel go into a tailspin of despair? Stay tuned!