Finish this book!

-but that rooster was handsome and cunning, indeed. He had feathers of flames and eyes of gold.

Oh, how my owner was red with rage.
 
He died a heroic death, he was taken by a fox soon after our “get together” , he was never seen again. His name was Terrance, he was a local troublemaker and I fell for his bad boy act, his tomfoolery evidently has shown up in bob
 
Our neighbors had gotten him along with those other snooty hens after we were brought home, chickens became a sort of trend in our neighborhood
 
(Ok.) I stop dreaming about that stunning rooster and start to worry about those missing children. Another child, my kids' half brother. "Hello my name is Timmy, " he says. "I'll help you." How much trouble could a little chick cause?
 

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