Gramma Judy
Chirping
- Apr 9, 2022
- 22
- 122
- 61
In the swiftly gathering dusk two hens crouched by the open coop door. Nervously, they eyed the lengthening shadows. Free ranging was great during the day, but predators lurked closer at night. Chicken #7 was particularly nervous after her chance encounter the The Dog. If only the coop door had been closed! Her wing had been ripped brutally, and now hung, useless, at her side. There was always the hope that The Woman would return and close the coop door tonight. The chickens glanced around again, then headed for their coop that offered no safety. There was always a chance no predator would seek them out tonight. There was always a chance.