My basement smells like a farm.
It doesn’t smell that much.
Are you wondering, “what in the world is she talking about?”
I’ll tell you.
Baby chicks are so cute. They’re cute when they sleep. They’re cute when they drink. They’re cute when they eat. They’re cute when they make short little daring flights that usually result in them waking up and otherwise annoying their sisters/cousins/distant relations/they might not even be related. They’re cute when they try to peck each other’s eyes out- just kidding, that is NOT cute. It is very rude, and I would much rather them peck the doodles I stuck on a piece of cardboard and put in their brooder. But they have different ideas. That is what I am writing about today. After you have read it, I think you will agree these chickens are crazy. Crazy cute. And just plain crazy.
The Adventures of Chicky Chick: Volume One
The Great Discovery
It was a warm and food-filled day. The chicks were happily chirping in their brooder. Life was good. Lots of food, water, and a nice lamp to keep them toasty warm. Sure, there was the occasional fights between siblings, (after all, everybody knew only the three holes closest to the heat lamp were worth eating from) and eyes might have been mistaken for nice tasty bugs once in a while, but for the most part, the 8 young ladies were quite well behaved.
But Chicky Chick had made an incredible discovery. She had been kicking up the pine shavings on the ground, trying to get them in her sisters’ eyes. (No one can now remember why her sisters deserved pine shavings kicked at them). As Chicky Chick kicked some more pine shavings at her sisters, missing and getting pine shavings in the water instead, she saw something incredible. Grey. A hard Grey surface lay underneath the pine shavings. She chirped loudly, a discovery like this needed to be shared. “Hey, come look at what I found!”
The pine shavings aimed at them forgotten, the other chicks rushed to Chicky Chick.
“What is it?”
“Is it food?’
“Is it dangerous?”
The chicks huddled in a circle, pecking excitedly at the Grey. They pushed and shoved, all wanting to peck at the Grey.
“It’s the best thing I ever pecked!”
Then, suddenly, a giant Hand reached down! The chicks scurried away in fright, abandoning the Grey, peeping in distress.
“It’s a monster!’
“It’ll kill us all!”
“We’ll be eaten alive!”
The chicks were wrong about the “alive” part.
The Hand brushed pine shavings back over the Grey, removing all traces it even existed.
The chicks gasped in horror.
“It destroyed the Grey!”
The Hand retreated, and the chicks stood frozen in unbelief, slowly beginning to peep a mournful song of sorrow, for the Grey was gone forever. Or at least for the next few minutes, until the exact same thing happened all over again.
Thanks for reading this, I hope you liked it. (By the way, none of them actually have names, “Chicky Chick” was invented for the purposes of that story. I would never name a chicken “Chicky Chick.” Breakfast is a much better name). I’m thinking about making this a regular/sort of regular thing, “The Adventures of Chicky Chick. I think it would be cool, it depends on whether the chicks do anything interesting. I think they will, but you never know. They might just decide to eat, sleep, and basically do nothing interesting enough to write about. But, then again, I have a feeling Chicky Chick might get into many more adventures………maybe.
Well, I’ve talked about chickens long enough, now for a glimpse into the past with a quote from one of my previous poems,
“Bright green sprouts struggle towards the light,
fighting to glimpse the sky.” -Kylli Berg