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Thanks, though I don't know who would buy it besides us chicken-obsessed folks! I doubt it would be one of Borders's bestsellers
I might do something with it though, eventually, once it's finished and Fatima's getting old. Who knows?
Hey, HorseFeathers, there are tons of chicken books at Barnes and Noble! I have one on my desk right now called "Extraordinary Chickens" The only problem is that the author is not a chicken person and misidentified many chickens, and not all of them are exactly the best of their breed. But still, it has pretty chicken pictures.
Turn it into a children's book. They love stories about animals and we.. uhh "parents" can buy it to "read" to our kids even though we are secretly getting it for ourselves.
My favorite book when I was a pre-teen was Spacebread, a story about the adventures of a swash buckling space pirate cat named Spacebread and her little buddy Figlet. I managed to get ahold of a signed first edition a few years ago that I'm holding onto to read to my future children.
It is a good idea though, and I am pretty good at drawing chickens. I might. My school library will bind, catalouge, and shelve a book that students have written (I'm going to give them the novel I just finished, To Save Terria) so maybe! In the back I could put a note about raising pet chickens.
Chapter 20: Ophelia of the Chocolate Down
Fatima of the Gold-dust Feathers was concerned. Ophelia of the Chocolate Down, a shy Welsummer hen, was acting very strangely and sick. She wouldn't move, and simply lay on the ground. The Ones With Great Hands came in a few times, making worried noises, before finally taking Ophelia inside. Fatima was anxious- though they were not the closest friends, Ophelia was a nice hen and Fatima often hunted for bugs with her.
When Ophelia had been missing for a full day and a night, Fatima asked Olympia of Midnight what could possibly be wrong.
"Ah," Olympia replied wisely, "that poor girl's sick."
"With what?"
"How am I supposed to know?!" Olympia tugged a worm from the ground and slurped it down before continuing. "It could be any number of things. Be thankful it's not contagious, or we'd all have it."
"Could Ophelia die?" Fatima cocked her head, worried.
"Why do you keep asking me these things? I don't know!" Olympia ruffled her feathers, annoyed. Then she glanced at Fatima's concerned expression and softened. "I really have no idea. Your guess is as good as mine. But I do know that when someone acts sick and the Great-Handed Ones take her inside, she's back after a spell, good as new."
"How long?"
Olympia raised her foot do scratch at her head. "Dunno. Sometimes it's a day, sometimes it's a few weeks. It all depends."
Fatima considered this. "Depends on what?"
"On how sick she is." Olympia pointedly turned her back and ambled off, ending the conversation.
Fatima stood there, pensive, until the Great-Handed man came with a bowl of treats. Fatima rushed to the fence with everyone else, but not because she was hungry. She stood, her chest feathers pressed up against the wire, and cried out to the Man, "What's wrong with Ophelia? Will she be okay? When will she come back?" But the Man with Great Hands just smiled at her, not understanding her speech, and stretched out his hand, a piece of bread clutched between his huge fingers. Instinct made Fatima's head bob forward to grab the bread. But with the food in her mouth, she couldn't talk, and by the time she had gulped down the morsel the Man had left.
And so Fatima had no answers. She stood by the fence, straining to peek into the windows of the Great Coop, where the Great-Handed Ones lived, trying fruitlessly to catch a glimpse of Ophelia. The effort proved useless, and Fatima left the fence to go scratch about, though her mind was still on Ophelia's predicament.
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Read Ophelia's full story here . If you think you know what's wrong, please post! Ophelia is still inside. She's moving around more and her crop is back to normal, but there's a big hard thing in it. We think it might be impacted.
Ahhh I hope your poor girl is ok, My new hen is in here with me too. and she can thank the big chickens. those mean old grumpy grumps. with the biting and the scratching and the removing of skin and tissue. has half a mind to go out and spray them with the hose until they wish they had been nicer.